Star Trek: Dark Archon
by SonOfTed
Summary: The Preservers return to the galaxy, led by a member of an alien super-species known as The Sentinel. Why is he so interested in James T. Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard, and what sinister plans does he have? Read me THIRD!
1. Staging Ground

**DISCLAIMER:** _The following is fan fiction utilizing events and characters from the "Star Trek" television series along with material from a few of the feature films. It is fan fiction only… there is NO intent here to collect income or infringe on the trademarks, copyrights, or patented work of others. Please DO NOT use this material for anything other than pure reading enjoyment. If you have been missing at least occasional new "Star Trek" episodes in your life, this is the place to come.

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**Star Trek: Dark Archon

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_I have not kept up with the "Star Trek" novels the past few years. Since many of the book plots have at times varied from what we see on screen anyway, this storyline is based primarily upon the episodes that we have viewed at home on TV and the movies we've watched while munching popcorn in the movie theatres. Be prepared, there's more than one SURPRISE coming… starting right now! It may not be completely clear at first as to just what exactly is taking place, but that's part of the fun… isn't it? Feel free to review away, by the way… if you post spoilers I fully expect they will attract additional curious readers to the party!

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**Chapter I: Staging Ground

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The piercing cries of the unknown animals snapped him back to attention, and the only thing that was certain in the human's mind as he ran through the frozen wasteland in front of him was that the planet he stood upon was freezing cold. Everything else was a complete enigma, beginning with his immediate surroundings.

_Where the hell am I?_

The human shook off the confusion, his years of training automatically controlling the instinctive urge to panic. Behind him, the continuing shrieks of the unknown creatures pursuing him cut through the chilly morning air and generated another adrenalin surge… driving him onward in his race to survive. The ongoing puzzlement lingered in his mind as he fought his way through frost covered bushes sprouting what looked to be tropical leaves. All of the vegetation surrounding him, in fact, appeared to be plant life that would more commonly be found in a much warmer environment.

_Except – according to the current weather conditions – his surroundings were no longer even _close_ to anything resembling a tropical environment._

All of the trees, leaves and other brightly colored red, green, and yellow foliage now appeared to be dying from the glittering, thick morning frost that coated them so spectacularly. Under different circumstances the frozen jungle surrounding him would have provided him with both a remarkable view and a puzzle to analyze. Right now there was no time to do anything except react to what was happening around him. The adult human's memory was filled with conflicting chaotic sounds and images – he had no recent recollection of anything other than awakening to the sound of the beasts that now chased him. It was completely astonishing; he was running for his life on a planet whose environment made absolutely no sense to him.

Glancing down at the jacket he wore the familiar insignia of a Starfleet badge reflected the new day's sunlight back up into his eyes. A virtual sea of memories flooded back into his thoughts, and again the human wondered how he had ended up on this planet. He quite literally had no idea what was taking place; only an intuitive certainty that his life was in grave danger. What pursued him was primeval and savagely wild; the beasts that chased him intended to kill him without a second thought and then feast on his dead body.

_I'm a Starfleet officer and the_ Captain _of a starship_. _Or at least I _used_ to be_.

He remembered that startling fact suddenly, his memory jarred by the familiar shape and gold coloring of the badge. Clouds of white mist poured out of his mouth as he exhaled and, glancing up briefly, the human noticed a large gap in the tree line ahead. He paused for a moment to think, continuing to gasp for breath as his body tried to adjust to the unexpected exertion of the all out sprint. The screams of the animals chasing him continued, growing louder with each passing second. The Captain could hear them crashing through the underbrush just as he had, except that the speed they moved at was substantially quicker than his own irregular pace.

The human breathed deeply for a few seconds longer and then leaped into the air, grabbing onto a frozen, low hanging tree branch and letting his weight – more than a few pounds too heavy for this kind of workout – pull it free. The heavy piece of wood separated from the tree with a loud _crack_ and the Captain hefted the makeshift club with the first glowing embers of a growing confidence. _I may be a bit out of shape_, he thought calmly to himself, _but I'm still going to make certain I put up a decent fight_.

Ahead of him some sort of dinosaur appeared in the clearing he had spotted – it appeared to be a velociraptor or at the very least something remarkably similar. The beast was almost 2 meters in height, covered with dark, mottled reptilian scales and it hissed at him and opened its mouth to reveal razor sharp teeth. Breath misted in front of its nose as the creature first exhaled, then shrieked in rage at his presence. It waved its arms at him and flexed its claws – the muscle structure running along its hind legs looked to be tremendously strong and there were sharp claws also to be found on its hind feet dug deeply into the frozen ground upon which it stood.

_Those other animals chased me this way deliberately and herded me right into a trap_, the Captain realized grimly. Determined to survive at any cost, he raised the tree branch and set his feet firmly in the ground… to lose one's footing now would mean instant death. Accepting his challenge, the dinosaur launched itself at him with a speed that was unbelievably swift – the Captain saved himself only by instinctively swinging his club without hesitation. The frosted, broken end of the tree branch connected solidly against the side of the beast's head and forced its direct frontal attack toward the Starfleet officer's left.

Both man and beast landed together on the ground in a tangle of arms and limbs, and the dinosaur's left arm took a vicious swipe at the officer's ribs and tore long gashes into his side. Uttering a cry of agony, the Captain kicked angrily at the beast and shoved himself away from it. His intelligence and training allowed him to recover more quickly than the stunned animal, and he nimbly sprang to his feet and swung the club harder this time – again connecting with its skull. The dinosaur's cry was shriller as it howled in pain, but it shrugged off both attacks and attempted to regain its footing. Bright red drops of the officer's blood spattered onto the white, frost-covered ground in front of him and the human stood – stunned – and stared at the unexpected sight for a brief moment. The abruptness of his injury was staggering, and he felt the first signs of light-headedness that indicated the onset of shock.

Crying out with rage and fierce determination, the Captain swung his makeshift club at the animal again – so hard this time that the heavy tree branch cracked cleanly in half. Stunned, the reptilian creature dropped to the ground and writhed in agony as it tried to recover from the severe beating that it had received. Behind them, the sounds of the other pursuing beasts were now so close that the human was left with little choice. He dropped the remnants of his club and ran for the open clearing, sprinting as fast as his feet would carry him on the slippery frozen ground. He exploded out from the trees onto what should have been dark rocky soil, but the freezing temperatures had coated everything with frost or – in this case – a thin layer of ice. As though running on broken glass, the Captain's feet left spiderweb-like cracks in the ground wherever he stepped. The ice was not nearly thick enough to hold his weight, but fortunately it was not slippery enough to slow his progress significantly.

Ahead of him was a very long frozen riverbed stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. The surface of the river had long since frozen over as a result of the subzero weather. The morning sun was beating down on the surface of the ice, creating huge clouds of drifting foggy mist very similar to the result of dumping dry ice in a bucket of water. The thickness of the ice was unknown at present – the Captain couldn't even see it in fact. Based on the angry cries of the animals steadily approaching from the rear he did not hesitate for an instant. Ripping off a section of his torn shirt as he continued to run the man from Starfleet pressed the fabric firmly against the wounds along his left side and disappeared into the center of the fog and emerged onto the frozen river.

The icy surface felt firm enough beneath his feet until he ran out several dozen meters. The unnerving sound of the frozen surface cracking as he moved spurred the human along at full speed, and for a moment he actually felt confident that he could reach the opposite bank before the pursuing creatures caught him again. Once more his unique, innate ability to sense danger saved him, and he lunged to his right as a dark shape materialized out of the mist behind him. A dinosaur skidded past him on the ice and its greater weight shattered the cracked ice upon which he had just stood. Screaming in rage the animal plunged into the frozen water below and then resurfaced almost immediately with an additional howl of anger. The claws from its arms dug noticeable trails into the ice surrounding the hole it had created as it struggled to free itself, but the human didn't wait around to see whether or not the beast was successful in escaping.

Returning his attention toward what he believed was the opposite side of the river he continued running, doing his best as he progressed to catch a glimpse of anything more than a meter or two in front of him. Approximately three meters above him the Captain could see the bright intensity of the sunlight beaming down from a cloudless blue sky, but virtually everything else below that height was completely obscured in the swirling haze of white fog. Occasionally he would cross areas where the mist temporarily cleared for a brief moment in time, but moving toward those spots always led him back out into the intense sunlight. Wherever the rays from the hot sun struck the ice, more of the hazy vapor could immediately be seen rising from the river's frozen surface.

The stranded dinosaur's shrieks had stopped and left in their wake an eerie stillness. The human paused for a moment before adjusting his direction once more. The ice beneath his feet continued cracking under his weight, breaking the brief period of silence almost immediately. Angry but determined he kept his pace rapid and continued moving in what he hoped was the right direction. It was impossible to see the far side of the river so he had absolutely no idea how far he had to go in order to reach it. As if things weren't difficult enough, the brief fight with the dinosaur and continuing loss of blood had disoriented him to the point where he wasn't even certain he was still running in the correct direction. Getting lost within the fog bank had been a tactical risk, but that too was giving him a chance to escape pursuit. Unfortunately for him, if the creatures that pursued him were like others of their kind, they would most probably navigate by scent.

A stiff breeze was blowing across the river and the Captain realized that he was not even close to being dressed for weather of this kind. He hastily finished tying the strip from his uniform around his wound and then blew harshly into his fingers to try and warm them with his breath. That was when another of the dinosaurs appeared suddenly from out of the mist, howling with delight at its surprise appearance in front of its helpless prey. It knocked the Captain flat on his back and he slid across the ice, hearing the ominous sounds of additional cracking beneath him. Rising immediately to his knees and then rolling to his left he managed to side step yet another attack. Two dinosaurs passed close by him this time, and as they stood together howling at him they too plunged through the ice and into the frozen water beneath.

The Captain continued crawling across the cracking ice for another ten minutes or so until he reached a sandy shore. It was possible he had arrived at the very same side of the river he had recently departed from, there was simply no way to tell. Behind him the shrieks of anger from the drowning dinosaurs gradually faded away… to his relief there was no further sign of pursuit. Emerging onto the frozen sand of the river bank the human forced himself to stand. His eyes scanned a nearby tree line carefully, and – when there were no indications of danger – he moved toward the closest tree and snapped off another branch large enough to serve as a new club. This limb was longer than the first one he had selected, so he stepped on it near the bottom and snapped off a section, leaving behind a very sharp point that could be used for stabbing an enemy if the need arose.

Blood was still flowing from his wound, so the Captain sat down with his back against a tree and let the sun shine down on him. The warmth of the strong sunlight revived him somewhat, but he could tell that he was drifting gradually into shock. He had no food or medical supplies; only the torn, sweaty uniform he wore was available to help him staunch the flow of blood and bandage the wound. Resting for a few moments the human stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket in an attempt to warm them up. Seconds later he fainted from shock and blood loss, and shortly thereafter he died quietly.

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Even though he could monitor everything from orbit, the Sentinel waited until he was sure that the fight on the planet's surface had ended. With all major life signs terminated he transported himself down to the Earth human's final location, finding the recently deceased Captain curled up tightly beneath a tree and still holding his new club tightly with half frozen fingers.

The Sentinel shook his head with complete disbelief at the Starfleet officer's ability to survive under duress… most of the tests that he had run on other species had ended almost immediately with the first dinosaur encounter. The animals were proven killers, and very adept at tracking and killing bipedal, sentient life forms. This candidate's ability to adapt and evolve, however, had allowed him to take advantage of the unique environmental conditions around him. Along with his natural instinct for sensing danger when it was near, he had made full use of his higher intelligence and given himself the best possible chance to survive. It was only the harshness of the surrounding climate, combined with the superior size and number of his enemies that had inevitably managed to defeat him.

_Even so all of the reptilians had perished first._

The Sentinel bent over, picking up the still form of Captain James T. Kirk in his arms and cradling the body close to him protectively. As he beamed back aboard the _Dokimasia_ a thought occurred to him…

_He would need a much hotter environment for his next sequence of tests. Perhaps it was not yet too late to salvage the jungle conditions covering most of the land on the continents of this world._


	2. Dokimasia

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter II: Dokimasia**

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James T. Kirk snapped awake instantly. Glancing around he noticed that he was in a large, cavernous room with seven walls arranged in an odd geometric pattern surrounding him. Approximately three meters from the floor the walls angled sharply toward a point near the center of the ceiling. There were a series of sophisticated computer panels attached slightly higher than eye level to all but three of the walls, from which an array of multi-colored lights winked brightly with power. Rising slowly to his feet the Captain cautiously surveyed the unusual layout of the room, trying his best to remember how he had gotten here.

"You have many questions Captain."

The voice was unexpected, its tone emotionless as the declaration was issued. Kirk spun around and noticed for the first time that a tall, well muscled humanoid stood patiently waiting at a large doorway - the room's only exit. He did not recognize the man, but took careful note of the gun metal gray jacket that he wore along with lengthy charcoal black slacks. There was no indication that the stranger carried a weapon, but he wore a sophisticated electronic headset that covered most of his dark hair and right ear.

"Who are you?"

Kirk posed the question and watched the other's reaction carefully, but the alien demonstrated an almost Vulcan-like control of his emotions. For the most part the man appeared human except for his extra large build and the total blackness of the irises in both eyes. It was impossible to determine the stranger's emotional state, since his expression continued to hold firm and the blank darkness in his eyes gave away nothing. Memories came flooding back into the Captain's mind but he pushed a majority of them aside, anxious to determine his current status first before deciding on his next move.

"You may call me the Sentinel," responded the other, his voice booming and deep. He stepped forward toward a trio of chairs in the center of the room placed next to the sofa-like furniture that Kirk had been laying on only seconds earlier. A small smile played across his face as he sat down in one of the chairs, and he extended a hand to the Captain. "Please Captain Kirk, have a seat."

Kirk still had his guard up, but relaxed slightly. He studied the features of the other for a moment longer and then shrugged. "Okay, we'll play it your way," he decided, sitting down in a chair directly opposite of the Sentinel's seated position. "Why am I here?"

The larger man did not answer immediately but instead leaned forward intently, studying Kirk very closely with a look that seemed to be one of triumph. "Are your memories intact?" he asked curiously. "Do you remember where you were and how you came to be here?"

There was a pause as Kirk weighed his options briefly and decided how much he wanted to tell the other. "I remember where I was and what I was trying to do," he said after a brief pause of his own. "But I have no idea how I came to be here. Where is this place?"

"You are aboard a massive, sophisticated starship called the _Dokimasia_," stated the Sentinel informatively. "I am in the process of conducting detailed experiments within the boundaries of your galaxy in order to determine which of its races are worthy of survival and which will remain extinct."

"Really," said the Captain brusquely, listening carefully to the other. "_Remain_ extinct?"

The Sentinel's smile widened just slightly and he nodded. "All will become clear in a short while. So you _do_ remember where you were right before you woke up here."

Kirk nodded. "Yes," he said, his eyes leaving the Sentinel just long enough to study layout of the rest of the room. His gaze rested finally on the door and the electronic control system built into the wall on the right side of its reinforced frame. "If you're here to harm my people or other species, why should I help you? From what you've already said, I can honestly say that I don't trust you."

A chuckle escaped the Sentinel's lips. "I know what you're thinking Captain," he declared with his dark, emotionless eyes flashing. "And I would advise you not to try. If you attempt to overpower me or escape, only bad things can happen to you. I know that you're going to try sooner or later just to satisfy your impetuous, determined nature. However, you should know that disobedience while aboard the _Dokimasia_ will be promptly punished using all necessary negative reinforcement. You will not be tortured while on board this ship, mind you , but the more cooperation that you provide us with the more comfortable will be your stay."

"Why should I cooperate in any way?" wondered Kirk idly. "Obviously I am your prisoner."

"Think of yourself more like... a permanent _guest_," suggested the Sentinel in reply. "You are my _fourth_ try at creating an exact duplicate of James T. Kirk, and I sincerely believe that this time we have all of the genetic drift and other oddities taken care of. My ship's computer informs me that your DNA and other vitals are a 99.9999614 percent match with the original."

The Captain kept his poker face firmly in place, but internally his mind raced. "_Duplicate?_" he asked with obvious surprise. "But I remember _everything_..."

"I am certain that you _do_ remember everything," agreed the Sentinel. "After all, your neural brain activity and memory structure at the time my probe recorded the original James T. Kirk has also been copied as precisely as your physical body. Humanoid species bear a striking resemblance to biological computers, after all. Someone in my position requires only the proper technology in order to achieve the desired result. My people have had this capability for hundreds of centuries."

"So I'm a clone?"

Again the Sentinel chuckled with amusement. "No Captain, you were not _grown_ from a biological experiment in a laboratory," he assured Kirk. "I used a sophisticated computer scan of your adult body as a template, and then replicated a copy of you that is now so virtually identical to the original there is no appreciable difference." He stroked his chin thoughtfully with his left hand. "We had several probes in your galaxy studying the sentient species there and one of them scanned you when you encountered it."

"I don't remember being scanned by any probe," Kirk remarked. "All I remember is..." he trailed off, once again uncertain as to just how much he wanted to tell this strange alien creature who obviously planned to continue holding him against his will without a reasonable explanation.

Ignoring the Captain completely the Sentinel continued with his analysis. "The first two copies of you were _very_ close to satisfactory but had definite identifiable flaws. This was quite understandable given the fact that I haven't ever copied humans before, but frustrating nonetheless. Yesterday I completed my tests on the third version of you, but unfortunately that copy perished in the process. He proved to be extremely vulnerable to subzero weather without adequate protection, even though he emerged victorious when pitted against my dinosaurs. So I had no choice but to create another copy and _here you are_! Captain James T. Kirk the fourth - my most welcome guest aboard the _Dokimasia_." He waved his open right hand amiably around the room.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want with my people?" demanded Kirk as a growing, festering anger began building deep inside of him.

"Ahhh, diplomacy abandoned!" grinned the Sentinel. He waved a cautioning finger at the Captain. "I'm warning you once more not to resort to violence; that would be a big mistake..."

Without warning Kirk leaped out of his chair and launched himself at the Sentinel. The alien watched regretfully as the Captain's body stopped in mid-flight, hovering in mid-air and held firmly in place by a crackling emerald force shield that appeared from seemingly nowhere as quickly as Kirk had moved. Angry cries of pain erupted from the Captain as his body continued to float above the metal floor beneath him. Seconds later, he passed out from the intense agony.

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For the second time in less than an hour James T. Kirk snapped awake. Once again he was lying on the couch-like furniture next to the three easy chairs. He took a deep breath and then sat up, noticing that the Sentinel was still seated exactly as he had been when the Captain had tried his attack. The fierce looking, ebony eyed alien smiled patiently at him. "Shall we try this again?" he asked casually.

Kirk snorted in response. "Do I have a choice?"

"No you do not," stated the Sentinel tersely. "You are _my_ creation and therefore my property. We can do things the easy way or proceed slowly as you continue to suffer excruciating pain during your futile attempts to escape. Eventually, I would hope that you will learn to behave like an adult." Once again he held up a cautioning hand in warning. "You should know that I am still in the process of deciding whether or not humanity will continue to survive. I admire your independent nature and initiative Captain, but my experiments have not ended. If you press me too hard I will deem your species more trouble than it is worth. I can assure you that you do _not_ want that to happen. I come from a very powerful species that dwells in many galaxies and you cannot hope to defeat me and my plans. Events transpiring here in your galaxy are now completely out of your control... I ask that you accept that. Continued defiance will prove to be useless and may even prove disastrous to my plan to insure the long term survival of your species."

The Captain glared at him. "Okay, if I understand matters correctly, then I'm a _copy_ of the original James T. Kirk and I'm also your prisoner..."

"You are _not_ a prisoner, Captain. You can go anywhere on this vessel that you wish, interact with my crew, and ask any of them all the questions that you want to. All I require in exchange for granting you this freedom is that you do not attempt to interfere with my crew or the _Dokimasia_'s mission."

"And just _what_ is that mission?" demanded Kirk. "What is it you are doing here that is _so_ important that you have to abduct... excuse me, _copy_ people without their permission?"

The Sentinel responded by pointing at one of the bare metal walls in the room behind Kirk. "_Watch_," he suggested as an image flared to life on the entire surface of the wall.

There was no indication as to precisely where the image was coming from, but the entire wall acted as a giant viewscreen. Kirk found himself more than a little intrigued as he watched a tall, spindly humanoid dressed completely in black walking along the edge of a tropical forest. The alien was at least seven feet tall and he was moving very swiftly, appearing to walk directly towards them. Vegetation in the background behind him consisted of a variety of bright greens, reds and yellows - trees and foliage so vividly colored that the Captain was virtually certain that he was looking at a prehistoric environment. He had walked on the surface of many planets during his long tenure with Starfleet - well, the _real_ version of him had anyway - and during that time he had seen similar plant life on more than a few worlds. This type of ecosystem was most commonly a very vibrant but dangerous environment, populated by very wild, primitive creatures on a world in its earliest stages of development.

"What you are looking at is my test planet," commented the Sentinel helpfully as they watched. "I use it all the time during my experiments that test the physical stamina of my subjects. The very thin, extremely tall individual you see may slightly resemble a bony, walking skeleton but he is in fact my colleague Kusival, Commander of the _Dokimasia_."

Kirk looked intensely interested. "My guess would have been that _you_ are the Captain of this ship. Aren't you the one in charge?"

"Not of this vessel and its day to day operations," replied the Sentinel with a smirk. "I am the commander of the _mission_. And although he looks extremely thin and spindly, Kusival is actually a very powerful, resilient being from a race nearly as ancient as mine. I have worked with him for as long as I can recall... he is my trusted right hand and someone I can always count on for complete, unquestioning loyalty during these types of assignments."

The Captain resisted the temptation to speak since the Sentinel was obviously baiting him in an attempt to get him to ask more questions. Instead Kirk watched the screen, noticing that Kusival's progress as he walked away from the jungle-like growth behind him was unbelievably rapid. The alien was searching for someone, and he held what looked like a hand weapon in his right hand. He stopped unexpectedly, slapping at his neck in surprise. As both Kirk and the Sentinel watched Kussival pulled a small, dart-like object out of his neck.

"Incredible," the Sentinel decided with an approving nod. "My Captain is stalking another human, and _he_ has already studied the brightly colored plant life around him and determined that it is quite probably poisonous. Thus, since your counterpart was placed on my test planet unarmed, he has attempted to build his own weapon using venom from the local plant life." Kirk's gaze shifted back and forth between the image they were watching and the Sentinel's expression - he was astonished at how captivated the alien was with events taking place on screen.

"You've got another _me_ running around down there?" inquired Kirk curiously.

"Not exactly," countered the Sentinel, waving a hand. Their view changed, switching instantly to another perspective that was obviously well behind Kusival, near the edge of the tree line. A thin, gray-haired balding human stood near a cluster of thickly clustered bushes holding a makeshift blowgun. As they watched he tossed it aside with frustration, noting that his alien opponent had not reacted in the slightest to the dart impact.

"The poison the human used would have instantly killed most humanoid species," admitted the Sentinel. "But Kusival is not a normal opponent." He watched Kirk's reaction closely, attempting to determine whether or not there was any recognition in the Captain's eyes. "The fact that he was careful enough not to poison himself in creating his weapon is once again proof of your species' ability to survive."

"That looks like a Starfleet insignia on the uniform," admitted Kirk. "So you've recruited yourself another officer." Beyond that, he wouldn't say more. Whether the Sentinel admitted it or not he was playing a game even as he directly interacted with Kirk, and the Captain was determined not to trust his adversary... not after what he had observed so far.

"Indeed I have," the Sentinel acknowledged. "Meet Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

They watched Picard turn and run as Kusival came to a determination as to the source of the dart and quickly reversed course back toward the trees in pursuit of his attacker. The wall's image remained focused on the human as he backtracked; huge pools of sweat were obvious on his chest and under the armpit areas of his red tunic. His dark black slacks were torn in several places from the stabbing sharp points of the bushes and surrounding undergrowth. Kusival fired several brilliant blue energy bursts from his hand weapon, directing them toward random areas in the trees. It didn't appear that he was aiming at anything specifically, but instead was hoping to flush Picard out into the open so that he could finish him off without a more intense pursuit into the jungle.

"Don't be lazy Kusival," mumbled the Sentinel with a shake of his head. "Go on in there and get the man before he escapes!" Kirk turned toward his rival and glared at him with renewed anger, outraged over the callous lack of compassion demonstrated by such an advanced life form.

On the wall image, Picard dropped into a crouch as one of Kusival's energy blasts struck the base of a nearby tree and blew burning embers, gray smoke and wooden splinters in all directions. He paused briefly as the sounds of his opponent crashing through the undergrowth continued growing nearer and then reached an abrupt decision. He ran deeper into the thicker areas of the jungle until he reached a large outcropping of rock that he had bypassed earlier. The rocky ground emerged from the trees and descended in a gradual slope that led to a sudden drop-off descending at least several hundred meters downward toward a distant river below. The distant rushing of water reached their ears, and Kirk noted from their ability to see multiple points of view that the equipment used by the Sentinel to monitor his "tests" was obviously quite sophisticated.

The image returned briefly to Kusival, who ceased his random firing into the trees and holstered his weapon. He paused to listen intensely, hoping to catch any sound of his opponent. After a few seconds he picked a direction - seemingly at random - and began walking into the forested area, moving so swiftly with his long thin legs that he closed the distance between himself and Picard within minutes.

The perspective shifted suddenly back to Picard, who had leaned as far over the drop-off on the rocky surface of the cliff face as he dared, grabbing onto the branches of a bush growing out of the side of it. Holding onto them firmly he slid over the side and dropped instantly toward the river below until the branches he held grew taut. They held his weight and kept him suspended as Kusival's profile could be seen moving through the trees toward the Captain's position.

Picard almost cried out as several of the branches he held pulled loose from the side of the rock face. As he fell instantaneously toward the rocky riverbank below he clawed desperately at other branches and managed to stabilize his position. For the moment he was safe, but he had now fallen too far to have any reasonable hope of ever climbing back up again. Nonetheless, hanging almost three meters below the precipice, Picard held tightly to the branches and waited patiently. Less than three minutes later his opponent arrived at the top of the slope, glancing briefly toward the distant river below. Kusival did not approach the edge close enough to spot his enemy, but instead stood completely still for several long moments and again waited patiently... listening.

"It is quite hot down there," pointed out the Sentinel. "I would imagine that your fellow Captain is extremely fatigued by now... he's been on the run for several hours and unlike you he is not nearly as used to physical exertion."

"You're a bastard, you know that?" decided Kirk. They watched as Kusival finished his wait and - satisfied that his adversary was nowhere in the vicinity - turned back to the tree line and hastily moved away in another random direction. Continuing his search he vanished into the jungle.

The Sentinel responded to Kirk's comment by roaring with laughter. "Oh, James Kirk, you are the rebellious one aren't you?" he decided. "Just for that, I should let him hang there until his strength fades completely and he falls to his death. But if I do so I would have to replicate another copy of him, and your own predecessor has already proven to me that humans such as you will fight to survive."

It didn't appear as though the Sentinel actually did anything, but the image on the wall suddenly vanished, restoring the wall to its original dull, metallic gray coloring. At the same time a sparkling, bright green energy surge appeared and materialized on one side of the room, coalescing into the exhausted form of Jean-Luc Picard. Fatigued beyond belief, the Captain fell to the floor and lay there, gasping for breath. As he did so the Sentinel touched the section of his helmet covering his right ear. "We're done for now Kusival," he said, quite obviously communicating with his crewman still down on the planet's surface. "You can transport back aboard ship and resume your normal duties."

"_Ackowledged_," crackled the raspy voice of the _Dokimasia_ Captain in reply.

"You see Captain?" The Sentinel smiled at Kirk. "Everything that takes place aboard this ship will be open and honest. I will hide nothing from you."

In response, Kirk shrugged. "That doesn't do me any good unless I have some sort of say in your decision making process. You're running the show and there's nothing I can do about that."

"There is a possibility that - working with the two of you - things could change," the Sentinel suggested, glancing down at the sweaty, disheveled Captain Picard.

"_What_... _what_ is going on here?" asked Picard, rising slightly to his knees. His head and face were coated with dirty smudges and damp with sweat. He looked first to Kirk and then to the commanding alien presence of the Sentinel.

"Welcome aboard the _Dokimasia_, Jean Luc Picard-3," stated the Sentinel proudly, waving a hand at Kirk. "Allow me to introduce you to James T. Kirk-4."


	3. The End Of Everything

_**Author's Notes:**_ Okay, this Chapter reveals a **LOT** more as to just where this story is going, so I have posted **MORE** picture links regarding the Federation Timeship _U.S.S. Relativity_ on my **PROFILE** page. If you want to take a look at a beautiful starship glimpsed only briefly in one small _Voyager_ episode, just stop by and reference the "Dark Archon" section. Okay... how interesting would a story be if it didn't have a Chapter titled "The End Of Everything"? Well, fortunately you don't have to find out in **THIS** story because that's **EXACTLY** what the Chapter below is called!

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**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter III: The End Of Everything

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Alpha Quadrant, Starship _U.S.S. Relativity_, Stardate 245885.6

* * *

"_Captain's Log, Stardate 245885.6: Upon completion of our current patrol of the Alpha Quadrant, the_ Relativity _will return to Earth for an extended stay in drydock. While we are home most of my crew will receive a well deserved shore leave, but I myself will be busy elsewhere attending a strategic planning conference along with several high level Starfleet Admirals. The meeting itself will be sponsored by Starfleet's 'Temporal Integrity Commission', a group that continues to meet with time travelers from the 31__st__ Century who have journeyed back in time to our 29__th__ to warn us of a dire emergency. The visitors from our future claim to have detected anomalous readings coming from the past, yet even their sophisticated technology has so far failed to isolate a specific threat. Thus they have asked for our help in the hopes that we might spot something that they have overlooked."

* * *

_

"Computer, please pause."

Captain Data leaned back in his chair for a moment as he flipped through a very old, time worn photo album. It had been intentionally designed in the traditional, ancient tradition of Earth's citizens as a testament to the storied history of both Starfleet and the human race. The physical nature of the book and complete lack of technology – it was a large, leather bound volume with aging, yellowed pages – made it virtually priceless to any collector of the era. Data had created the book that way specifically as a permanent tribute to honor everyone with whom he had served with in Starfleet. As he paged slowly through the book, the faces of hundreds of familiar people long since dead smiled back up at him… captured forever in what Data hoped was the largest collection of friends ever assembled.

Familiar names burned anew within his neural net, brought back to vivid life by the faces pictured in front of him: _Picard, Riker, LaForge, Yar, Worf, Troi, Crusher_… all of them people with whom he had not personally served but whose memories were still a major part of his consciousness. It had all begun with the original Data, the first of many sentient androids in Starfleet history and the brainstorm of Dr. Noonien Soong. After the death of the first Data, Starfleet had let the memories of the original android rest for several centuries while attending to other more important matters. There had of course been numerous attempts to copy him over the years, some of which were successful but none lasting for more than a year. It wasn't until the latter half of the 26th Century that improved technology and a driving need for intelligent, sentient androids serving in Starfleet motivated the great minds at the Daystrom Institute of Technology to recreate him using designs and data files nearly two centuries old.

The original Data and his evil counterpart Lore were both well remembered: a fascinating reflection of the human spirit and the inspiration that had driven Dr. Soong. The failures in the personality of the original android Lore mirrored the darkness dwelling within every human, while the compassion, intelligence, and dedication of the first Data burned through the history of his remarkable achievements like a beacon of hope. Captain Data was _proud_ to bear the name of his great grandfather, he had specifically requested the name upon activation. Although there were many Data-Class androids now serving in Starfleet, including at least one on every starship, he was the _only_ android to currently bear the name Data. His comprehensive, internal database contained all the memory files of the original along with those from dozens of other androids. Each time two of the androids met, they had developed a custom of linking temporarily to share new memories with each other in order to improve the knowledge, performance and judgment of all.

The chime to his personal quarters sounded, and Data ordered the guest waiting outside to enter. He glanced up briefly as the brash youthful face of his dark-haired First Officer, Commander Thomas Joseph Ducane entered the room. The Captain held up a hand and Ducane nodded, acknowledging the signal and pausing just inside the doorway patiently, his arms folded across his tall, lean frame.

"Computer resume." Data closed the photo album and set it on the desk, picking up a sophisticated electronic padd and studying the sensor data recorded on it. As he read he continued his verbal log entry.

* * *

"_So far our own scans have revealed nothing out of the ordinary. If something has happened or is about to happen, we have found no evidence of time tampering using our own equipment. Since the 31__st__ Century representatives have their own significantly advanced technology, I remain wary of trying to assuage their fears too quickly. If they have noticed unexplained oddities during their own study of our history then I have no doubt that something is amiss. But our galaxy remains an extremely large place when compared with the even greater expanse that is the surrounding universe. It is quite obvious that we cannot be everywhere and study everything at once, thus we will remain on alert so long as our allies from the future continue to warn us of potential danger."

* * *

_

As Data completed the log entry, Ducane's eyes focused curiously on the dark brown, leather bound photo album and he raised an eyebrow. "May I, sir?"

Data nodded, waving a hand at the Commander. "Of course."

Thomas Ducane picked up the book and began paging through it, immediately recognizing many of the names and faces that he had already learned in school during history classes. "It is truly astonishing to realize that you have the memories of the android that actually interacted with and served with many of these people," he said with a low whistle. "What a remarkable miracle that must be for you."

"Human or android, much of what we learn is by observation of the world around us," acknowledged Data with a small smile. "Thus it is a distinct advantage for me to have served with many Captains over the years. I have also worked with quite a few Starfleet Admirals as well; many of whom once commanded a starship or two themselves."

"So far Lt. Ingram is the only one of us from this ship who has had the privilege to meet another of your kind." Commander Ducane chuckled. "She said he took her by surprise because he had altered his hair and features to appear differently than your usual well-renowned traditional appearance."

"My people have been discussing that possibility with Starfleet for years," said Data with a nod. "It became obvious when we went into mass production that there would be a need to uniquely identify each of us… physical appearance was the first to be altered. Each of us is also encoded with a unique electronic tag on our neural net so that one of us cannot be mistaken for the other."

Ducane leaned against the desk and continued paging through the album, his expression curious. "But you kept the bright gold eyes and skin coloring…"

"Many of us did so to continue uniquely identifying ourselves to those we meet as androids, and also to honor the Vulcan concept of IDIC," explained Data. "Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. We believe the Vulcans' view of the universe to be the correct one… that all of us are different from each other, blessed with unique skills and abilities. No one should be ashamed of who or what they are, and using that same reasoning no one should be overly proud if they have abilities superior to others Life is life, wherever it exists and in whatever form."

"What about memories?" Ducane wondered idly. "If all of your people share a database that is so similar, doesn't that make all of you…"

"Predictable? Individuals who – in a given situation – will all make the same decisions?" Data smiled as he noted the expression on the face of his First Officer. "In theory that would be the case, but since we are all serving in different positions in Starfleet and interacting with a very unique and diverse group of people, the knowledge base of each of us very quickly diverges. Additionally the technology now exists to give us a basic 'start up' neural net, while the rest of it develops and defines itself based on our experiences after activation. Thus I don't think you're going to find any of us predictable in the least… each of us has been designed to be as unique and innovative as any human."

Commander Ducane laughed at the last sentence. "_Don't_," he repeated softly. "You used a contraction, sir. There's always been a nasty rumor flying around that you do not use them."

"Indeed," said Data in reply. "The original Data's inability to use contractions was one of the first oddities that we corrected. Quite obviously, even Dr. Soong wasn't perfect."

"You are fortunate to live behind Federation borders," pointed out Ducane. "There are still more than a few species out there who would not be so willing to grant you the recognition of sentience or the freedom to continue to improve yourselves… much less grant you the very prestigious command of a temporal starship."

"We are _all_ fortunate to live in the Federation." Data concluded, setting the padd on the desktop and folding the fingers of his hands together. "Do you have a report for me?"

Ducane smiled. "I do," he admitted. "Lt. Ingram has continued her detailed sensor sweeps of both the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. There were a few odd, unexplained anomalous readings in the usual places, but given the unrestricted use of the first raw warp drives developed during the early days of space travel it is a wonder there aren't more of them. The quantum singularities used by the Romulans in their warbirds prior to our peace treaty certainly don't help matters either – more than a few of those engine systems malfunctioned over the years and left behind quite a few unpredictable tears in the fabric where space and time converge. We continue to repair them where and when we locate them, but not all of that type of interstellar clutter is easily tracked down."

"Do not forget, the _Relativity_ uses a temporal warp core that contains a quantum singularity based on that very same technology as originally created by the Romulans. Without it we would be unable to monitor the flow of time and identify tampering as it takes place."

"I know," the Commander admitted. "I just wish sometimes that history had unfolded a bit differently, that's all. It seems like no matter what we've done over the years, things have always found a way to get bloody every half century or so." He paused, taking a deep breath before completing his report. "The starships _Hillyer_ and _Nautilus_ will remain phased out of normal space/time along with us until we reach Earth. Once we arrive at our destination the _Huxley_ has been ordered to take over for us as the third Timeship on patrol while the _Relativity_ undergoes repairs and our crew takes shore leave."

"That is acceptable," decided Data. "My bridge shift begins in two hours… I'll see you then."

"Aye Captain," said Ducane with respect. With his progress report completed, he nodded, left behind a new padd of information containing the complete text of his analysis and then exited the room as quickly as he had arrived.

* * *

The bridge of the _Relativity_ was a unique design, specially equipped with state-of-the-art automation technology that allowed the Timeship to function efficiently even while equipped with a minimal staff. The main viewscreen and dual primary bridge stations were situated at the lowest point on the port side of the room… part of one of the smallest bridge designs in Starfleet history. Just aft of the two workstations was a small stairway leading up to a third bridge console, and from there easy access was available to a small Captain's ready room and turbolift. 

Beyond the turbolift on the starboard side was a carpeted walkway with a stairwell looking down on the rest of the bridge. Its rear wall contained the main engineering and science station consoles, allowing the Captain and anyone else manning them to constantly monitor ship's functions and incoming sensor telemetry. The walkway led all the way forward to a specially designed transporter platform equipped to beam people or equipment – not just from place to place – but through _time_ as well. The Timeship and its highly trained crew were quite capable of taking corrective action whenever their equipment detected someone trying to alter the normal flow of time.

Although he did permit his android consciousness to sleep at times, Captain Data never really did grow tired or fatigued – not even from strenuous physical exertion. Thus while on duty he could usually be found standing on the higher, starboard walkway keeping watch on the entire bridge. During peak ship operations as many as ten crewmembers worked shifts on the bridge, but most of the time there were five or less. Commander Ducane could usually be found working at one of the primary bridge stations, more often than not flanked by Lt. Jessica Ingram. Ingram had replaced another alien crew member as a _Relativity_ bridge regular, taking over for him shortly after his transfer.

There had been a number of significant personnel changes on board the _Relativity_ in the aftermath of Captain Braxton's arrest. The vessel's former Captain was renowned throughout Starfleet as a notorious criminal, infamous in Starfleet circles after a future, mentally ill version of the Captain attempted to prevent his neurological condition by traveling into the past to destroy the starship _Voyager_. That he would do something so blatantly illegal was startling, since Braxton had successfully rehabilitated himself after spending over three decades trapped in Earth's 20th century. The former _Relativity_ Captain had been a new officer himself during his earliest posting, and – misinterpreting his shuttle's sensor readings – he had unintentionally initiated a "Pogo Paradox"… essentially a classic causality loop in which his attempts to prevent an event involving Kathryn Janeway's _Voyager_ from happening actually triggered it. Only the intervention and determination of Captain Janeway and her crew had saved 29th century Earth from extinction on that occasion, although Braxton remained steadfastly unwilling to admit it over the years.

Ducane had been a brash young Lieutenant when first posted to the _Relativity_, trusting Braxton instinctively after hearing of the man's long road to recovery in returning to Starfleet and his dedication to keep history safe for everyone. Traveling through time was always risky, however, and Captain Braxton's adventures over the years had taken their toll on him even when altered timelines were – for the most part – correctly restored. Maintaining both physical and mental safeguards as people moved from one timeline to another and sustaining an "out of phase" relationship with the universe around them required sophisticated technology. Even so, the procedures often proved difficult for even the most hardened crewman's psyche. Time travel was a very well researched, documented science these days, but it still proved hazardous at times even under ideal conditions.

Thus Lieutenant Ducane had learned a hard lesson in those early days: _his job sometimes involved protecting history from people who might not even exist yet, but who nonetheless moved back through time with criminal mischief in mind_. Braxton had apparently been completely lucid until his latter years, and his arrest before he could carry through with his crime had allowed medical experts to diagnose his oncoming future temporal psychosis early. He would never serve in Starfleet again, but Braxton was predicted to survive now with his future mind intact. Ducane had developed a habit of continually checking in with Braxton, in fact, to constantly reassure him that Kathryn Janeway and everyone else in the universe were properly "behaving themselves."

Even so, Ducane hadn't had the heart to tell Braxton about Admiral Janeway's eventual journey into the past to meet with her earlier self on the _Voyager_ still stranded in the Delta Quadrant, the ensuing confrontation with the Borg, or the starship's consequent journey home to the Alpha Quadrant after only 7 years instead of 23. Even though the Temporal Integrity Commission had thoroughly evaluated Janeway's actions, approved them and chosen not to interfere, the Commander somehow doubted that Braxton would understand or appreciate their reasoning. That being the case, he contented himself with casual subspace messages now and then while the _Relativity_ was phased back into normal space/time, making certain that his former Captain was doing well back on Earth.

* * *

Standing next to the handrail on the upper starboard side of the bridge, Captain Data found it difficult to maintain the patience needed to wait for the latest results of the _Relativity_'s sensor scans. His emotion chip had been significantly upgraded in recent centuries, and it had grown so accurate in its effectiveness that he genuinely found himself wondering from time to time as to why the original android had once sought out these very same emotional feelings. During those rare times when the chip was "off" his thinking was clearer, focused and rational. He would doubt the value of the emotions during those times, and then someone would tell him a funny joke or the Captain would witness a mother hugging her son. During those times when his emotions were most positive he felt that he had truly achieved everything that his creator, Dr. Noonien Soong, had hoped his remarkable creation would accomplish. 

"Once again, I have intermittent contacts right here in the Alpha Quadrant," reported Lt. Ingram with a distinct note of frustration in her tone of voice. "Objects that shouldn't exist suddenly appear and then disappear at varying points in the 27th and 28th centuries."

Data had thoroughly digested the information on Ducane's earlier report. Leaning forward onto the handrail he glanced down at the pair. "What kind of objects?" he asked, more than a little intrigued.

Ingram paused to double-check the sensor data. "Unknown," she told him, glancing back up at him. "They're very small… possibly probes or some sort of automated, unmanned vessels. It's impossible to tell at this distance unless we move closer or send a shuttle."

"Someone could be conducting field tests," Ducane suggested. "Possibly they are new to time travel and simply testing their equipment to make certain that it works thoroughly. I'll run a detailed scan of Jess' anomalies and try and trace their origin."

Data thought the matter over carefully. "I have an incoming conference call with Starfleet and the Temporal Integrity Commission in a few hours," he pointed out. "It would seem to me that someone is testing _us_… not just their equipment. I'd say they're tossing bait out and leaving it there just long enough to determine whether or not we'll look into the matter." He shrugged his shoulders. "Unless that someone chooses to make an aggressive, deliberate move and alter history, I think we should stay where we are and wait them out."

"Waiting has never been my specialty sir," Jess Ingram informed him.

Next to her Ducane chuckled. "Whenever I complained about the oddities or complexities of the timeline, Captain Braxton used to tell me '_tempus fugit_'. I suggest you get back to work Lieutenant; it will take your mind off of the waiting part." He winked at her and then noticed her long blonde hair, which was tied tightly back into a bun at the base of her neck. "Did you change your hair color _again_?"

"Yes," she replied tersely without glancing up from her console. "Thanks for noticing."

"Hey," grinned Ducane, "I didn't say whether or not I was actually complimenting you. I just noticed the color change, that's all."

"Trust me, you _did_ compliment me," snapped Ingram a bit defensively. "Otherwise I suggest you drop the subject and return your attention to your own business."

Still standing and watching from his observation point, Data let the two of them go back and forth. Their casual banter was one of those unusual oddities about humans and human emotion – it allowed them to control and focus their attention during tense situations. His own anxiety, driven by an electrical charge from his emotion chip, was rising slightly and his android instincts told him that something was definitely up. He turned away from the handrail and returned his attention to the science station monitors for a few seconds, but the incoming telemetry hadn't updated yet from the latest sensor sweep. Part of him _wanted_ something to happen; Data was designed to be curious, and although he had been in command of the _Relativity_ for slightly more than a year, he had not yet had the chance to truly act in his new role as a time cop.

With android thoughts crisscrossing his neural net at speeds a human brain could only hope to achieve, Data glanced over at the dedication plaque for the _U.S.S. Relativity_ and read the quote inscribed there:

"_The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen all at once._"

Later on he would reflect back upon this particular moment as more than a little ironic, because it was almost precisely at this specific instant that everything _did_ begin to happen at once. Or at least, in retrospect it _seemed_ to.

"I'm detecting _multiple_ temporal incursions!" shouted Jess Ingram excitedly as the familiar sound of the red alert klaxon began blaring in the background. "There are hundreds of signatures scattered across all _four_ quadrants of the galaxy; all of them appeared at different locations, but at the exact same moment in time."

"I wouldn't exactly use the word _scattered_," decided Ducane. "It looks like a pretty organized pattern to me." He touched the workstation controls in front of him and began an analysis. "I'm checking to see if any major focal points in history are also affected… Jess can you pinpoint the closest incursion for me?"

"Give me a minute," Ingram responded, working as quickly as she could. While she and Ducane busied themselves at their jobs, Data descended from the upper level of the bridge and moved to stand behind them. As soon as he reached their position, Ingram glanced up at him with a pale, frightened expression on her face. "Whatever these devices may be, every single one of them appeared at the same point in time on January 27, 2712… near the start of the 28th Century."

"What are the projected effects on the timeline?"

Jess Ingram studied her sensor logs carefully before answering Data's question. "Disastrous. We've got a completely _rewritten_ timeline… whatever happened has affected so _much_ history that everything has already changed around us. Given the vast magnitude of this event, we don't have the time we usually do to analyze alterations made. All major focal points in our galaxy _have already changed_!"

Commander Ducane nodded in agreement. "It's the probes… or _whatever_ the hell they are Captain. Upon appearing in our galaxy, they immediately began radiating a powerful signal through subspace. Based on my initial analysis it looks like the pulses that those devices are sending out are lethal to biological life forms."

"Good God… they're terminating _every_ living thing in the galaxy within a matter of minutes," Lt. Ingram gasped. "Those probes are _perfectly_ positioned, and by using subspace they're hitting everything – and everyone – before they even have a chance to notice something terrible is happening."

Data held his calm as Ducane took a deep breath. He placed a reassuring hand on the Commander's shoulder and smiled reassuringly at him. "Perhaps I can be of assistance," he suggested, reaching across Ducane's control panel and opening a direct link to the _Relativity_'s main computer. "Computer, there is a transceiver built directly into my neural net. Please activate standard Starfleet protocols and interface with it, allowing me access to your systems."

"_Acknowledged_," the computer responded, using the same distinct female tone that had been the voice of Starfleet computer systems for well over half a millennium. Data sometimes wondered whose voice had originally been chosen, or if she had been a real person at all. "_Interface established_."

Additional alarms and flashing warning beacons flared to life as the danger signaled by the incoming sensor telemetry continued to grow. "What are you doing Captain?" asked Ducane curiously.

Data returned his Commander's puzzled expression with a reassuring smile. "During an emergency situation I have the ability to interface with a starship's main computer and take control of its primary systems. This will allow me to instantly control ship's functions and analyze incoming data much faster than would normally be possible." Ingram turned to stare in wonder at him as Data stood quietly behind her, efficiently coordinating all of the _Relativity_'s sensor activity with his positronic brain. "Based on your initial report, I think this situation definitely qualifies as an emergency."

"You'll get no argument from me," growled Ducane, the color draining from his cheeks. Like Ingram, he too was feeling a significant amount of anxiety that continued to escalate as their research continued to more accurately define the magnitude of the danger they were suddenly faced with.

Continuing to analyze sensor logs using his computer interface, Data's own artificially produced apprehension reached an all time high. "Long range sensors indicate that _sentient_ life is being specifically targeted by the alien probes and terminated wherever it exists," he pointed out. "We are in range of the Bellatrix star system, where several experimental computer systems that were operational early in the 28th Century and programmed with artificial intelligence software crashed soon after initiation of the subspace pulses."

The impact of what the Captain was saying registered on Ducane. "So artificial life is threatened too… sophisticated planetary computer cores, starship computer systems…"

"…and quite probably sentient androids like me as well," acknowledged Data. "It does not appear as though animal or plant life is affected. However, someone is conquering the entire Milky Way galaxy by terminating all intelligent life forms on all planets that would normally be capable of defending against the attack." Satisfied that he had analyzed all available sensor data the Captain took a step back. "Computer, terminate interface," he ordered.

"_Interface terminated_."

Commander Ducane took several deep breaths and composed himself before commenting further. "This event is such a large incursion and so _massive_ an attack on our galaxy that it affects _all _cultures and _all_ history simultaneously. The timeline has changed so completely and so quickly that we haven't had a chance to do anything to prevent it. If we phase back into normal space/time, there's literally no one left for us to interact with."

"Perhaps our colleagues from the 31st Century will intervene," Lt. Ingram suggested. "They're farther ahead along the timeline than we are… perhaps they will have more time to prepare."

"That is doubtful," Data countered. "The results in their century should also be instantaneous. Further, theirs is a more personal form of time travel than ours; they rarely use ships and usually send only one or two people at a time carrying only the needed technology. That methodology allows them to minimize both risk of discovery and inadvertent history changes of their own." He noticed that the other two crewmen currently on bridge duty had paused in shock – both of them were standing in the background and listening to every word of the conversation between the Captain and his senior officers. "Please return to your stations and continue your work," the android suggested calmly to them. "I assure you, we will continue to analyze the situation and respond accordingly."

"The final incursion factor is 99.99934," Ducane observed. "We're dealing with an almost complete alteration of history. I would say that further research will reveal that virtually every sentient race inhabiting our galaxy has now perished as of the year 2712. If there is anybody at all left, they will be scattered and few… probably located deep underground or protected by unforeseen shielding."

Captain Data analyzed the matter carefully for a full thirty seconds before announcing his decision. "Contact the Captains of the _Hillyer_ and the _Nautilus_," he ordered. "Order them to rendezvous with us in the year 2712 at a location in close proximity to the unidentified alien probe that appeared nearest to our current position. Be certain to specify that _all_ ships are to arrive one hour before the probe's initial appearance."

"Aye sir." Ingram activated their sub-space Comm-link and began working swiftly to contact the commanders of the other two vessels.

"We could send a shuttle," Ducane advised him. "A smaller, initial scout mission might be less risky."

Data met his Commander's eyes as Thomas Ducane looked up at him. "Whoever did this deliberately chose the 28th century as their delivery point," he declared. "They knew representatives from the future would be watching and prepared to respond, so their method of attack was specifically designed to eliminate as many of us as possible. As far as we know there are only three starships left in the entire Federation," he observed with a small trace of irony. "I think that we had better be prepared to take some risks in order to get our fully inhabited galaxy back."

Ducane nodded firmly. "Agreed Captain."

"Have you been able to locate the origin point from which those devices were launched?"

Ducane shook his head. "It's undoubtedly some sort of artificial wormhole technology, but each rift opened just long enough to deliver the subspace probes. Without a more thorough, on site investigation, I can't tell you any more at this point."

"Then set course for the nearest beacon," ordered Captain Data. "Let's discover who did this and reverse the damage before it's too late." The dark, unspoken thought currently prodding his neural net persisted in his mind. _That whoever was capable of doing such a monstrous thing might be far too powerful to confront… that it might_ already _be too late_.


	4. Generations Of Study

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter IV: Generations Of Study

* * *

**

This time it was Captain Jean-Luc Picard who woke up unexpectedly in the unfamiliar, seven-walled room. He opened his eyes curiously and stared at the familiar face of James T. Kirk, who was seated alongside the Sentinel. Both men were watching him intently, as though studying his reaction to recent events. "I remember taking a shower and changing into clean clothes," Picard stated flatly, sitting up on the gray, lengthy couch upon which his thin frame had briefly rested.

The Sentinel nodded. "You were exhausted and I wanted you to clean up. Then my crew gave you a sedative so that they could treat your wounds while you rested," he replied with a curt shrug. "It wouldn't do any good for you to go into your next 'test' if you weren't one hundred percent, after all."

The look on Picard's face went beyond mere puzzlement. "Test?" His expression changed quickly to one of dark anger. "Is that what all that business on the planet was?"

Again the Sentinel nodded in reply, but it was Kirk who spoke first this time.

"Apparently we're rats in some sort of lab," the Captain commented, and then leaned forward intently with an expression of undeniable curiosity. "I remember _everything_, Captain Picard. How much of what happened to us do _you_ remember?"

Picard glanced down briefly at the charcoal-colored jumpsuit he now wore, with its tied silver belt circling his waist. Captain Kirk was dressed similarly, and Picard watched him warily as his thoughts raced backward in search of answers. He hesitated for quite a while before answering, but eventually did discover that his memories of recent events were indeed intact. "I remember being trapped in the Nexus," he began, watching Kirk smile at his mention of the word. "I witnessed all kinds of different possibilities regarding my future. One of my most vivid memories is of my family that could have been but never was. Then my friend Guinan showed up, but she was only some sort of echo… a memory. She led me to you, and after that I remember convincing you to go back with me into the real world…"

"To stop a madman named Soran." Kirk finished the sentence softly.

"Yes," admitted Picard. "I remember everything very clearly, right up until that final moment when we left the Nexus and attempted to return to Veridian III. Why can't I remember anything _after_ that?" He scratched the side of his head above his right ear idly, searching his thoughts for answers.

"You can't remember because you _did_ leave the Nexus at that point, Captain." The Sentinel wore a confident, almost arrogant broad smile as he spoke the words. "And James T. Kirk also left with you, and that is why neither of you can recall events taking place after that."

Picard stared at him blankly. "I beg your pardon?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across Kirk's expression. "You and I may look and feel and believe we are the real Kirk and the real Picard, but we're not," he explained. "We're copies of the original humans, prisoners of a sort on board a large exploratory vessel called the _Dokimasia_."

Again Picard found himself at a loss for words. "I don't understand."

The Sentinel laughed his hearty, booming laugh. "The original Kirk and the original Picard did indeed leave the Nexus," he stated informatively. "They returned to their real world. You and Kirk-4 were created – copied actually – from that _echo_ as you so eloquently call it… which is actually a very detailed recording of your physical and mental structure stored in the central database of my probe."

Kirk shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I didn't understand at first either," he admitted. "Apparently the Nexus is some sort of sophisticated alien probe – a device specifically designed to generate the energy ribbon we ran across. The addictive affects on life forms inside of it, along with the destructive nature of its leading edge to nearby spaceships, are qualities that were deliberately designed into it."

"So it's a flytrap." Picard rose to his feet and tested his sore muscles, flexing his arms carefully. "You're saying that the Nexus is a lure designed specifically to attract the curious as they pass by in their space ships so that it can absorb and study the individuals who travel through space."

"Essentially yes," grinned the Sentinel, and Picard found himself realizing that the light-hearted, cavalier attitude of their captor was really beginning to grate upon his nerves. As a Starfleet Captain, he had always found himself a man tough to anger, yet somehow this strange, unfamiliar being instinctively knew how to push his buttons. As if reading Picard's mind, the alien startled him again with his next move. "Briea," the Sentinel said, as though talking to someone who was physically in front of him. "Describe to us, in detail please, the Nexus."

"_Acknowledged_," a soft, delicate female voice responded. It seemed to drift down around them from everywhere, and yet there were no indications of speakers or any other visible technology within the room. "_The device known to our Starfleet visitors as 'the Nexus' is indeed a probe of sorts; although it is a highly sophisticated device deliberately designed with capabilities far superior to any conventional research technology. The Nexus contains a temporal core that spans all of creation... it is an intersection where all points in time simultaneously converge, thus providing access to anywhere an individual life form chooses to go. The Nexus discovered by our Starfleet guests – and two other energy ribbons just like it – were released many millennia ago into the Milky Way galaxy and allowed to roam freely about. Each of them was preprogrammed to automatically change course on a random basis every two and a half centuries to insure contact with as many space faring species as possible. Occasionally the ribbons pass through planetary bodies, asteroids and stars. Their intended objective, however, is not to study stellar objects but to instead attract, scan and fully test the capabilities of space faring life forms_."

"The voice you are hearing," said the Sentinel informatively, "is that of Briea, the artificial intelligence in charge of the _Dokimasia_'s main computer. Briea is a fully interactive, sentient life form capable of running this entire ship. Kusival and the other aliens of his race are on board solely to provide necessary maintenance and upkeep; the responsibility for actually running ship's functions and assisting me in carrying out my mission is fully Briea's." The Sentinel was doing his best to be both friendly and tactful, but the expression on Picard's face was all that the alien needed to see in order to know that he still had a ways to go before winning the Captain's trust.

"I don't care how sophisticated and intelligent your ship's computer is," snapped Picard. "Are you telling me that _you_ are the person responsible for creating that energy ribbon? Do you realize just how _many_ lives have been lost over the years as curious ships fly into that thing only to discover after they have changed course that they do not have the capability to escape from it?"

"Of course I _know_ its capabilities," said the Sentinel. "Mind your tone Captain," he said sharply in warning, waving an index finger angrily in response to Picard's outburst. "Your companion Captain Kirk will be the first to tell you that undesirable behavior on this ship is promptly detected and punished." He folded the fingers of both hands together and leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath for emphasis. "I myself did not launch those energy ribbons into your galaxy, but it was my people – my ancestors – who first designed them and made the final decision to use them as an information gathering technique. Over a lengthy period of time, they are extremely effective at accumulating detailed scans of ships as well as an accurate sampling of life forms in a galaxy. The echo recording of all who enter is automatically activated upon their arrival because inevitably some of the life forms not only recognize that they have the ability to leave the ribbon but – as in your case – actually _choose _to do so."

"_Most of the surviving life forms collected are unwilling to leave, due primarily to the highly addictive pleasurable qualities of the ribbon_," chimed in Briea, her voice sounding quite eager to contribute to the discussion. "_Less than one hundredth of one percent of life forms collected end up choosing to leave… most are still trapped inside of the Nexus ribbons when they are finally retrieved and their contents analyzed. So both of our Starfleet guests are to be commended… they are among a very elite minority_."

Kirk had stayed quiet, listening carefully to the discussion as it progressed. Now, however, he turned his head toward the Sentinel with several conclusions of his own. "You make a recording of all captured life forms in case they leave, like Captain Picard and I chose to. That way you can still replicate copies at a later date and interact with them if you need them. If the copying process is as accurate as you claim, then it's literally like having the real thing right here in the same room with you."

"_If_ I need them!" boomed the Sentinel, and once again his laughter filled the room. "Those who leave are representatives of the species that interest my people the _most_, Captain Kirk. They are survivors; people who are able to explore space and study it in detail while at the same time adapting and protecting themselves against its dangers. There are many among my people who believe in a power higher even than ours that originally designed and created our universe. My discovery firsthand that the proverbial hand of fate brought you two Captains together makes me truly wonder whether or not to give more credence to that theory."

"So this is _why_ you and your ship have journeyed to our galaxy?" Picard inquired. "You have collected the data from these energy ribbons and are analyzing it?"

"_It is almost time for Stage Three_," announced Briea unexpectedly.

The Sentinel paused briefly as he pondered her words. "My additional time interacting with you two is likely to be quite limited for awhile," he admitted finally to the two men. "Thus I encourage you to interact with Briea during the many times when I am unavailable. You are free to ask her any question you like on any topics that interest you. I also encourage both of you to thoroughly tour the _Dokimasia_." His expression darkened noticeably. "Do _not_, however, attempt to take advantage of my hospitality by trying to interfere with my crew or this vessel's functions. You have been copied, perfected and passed my admittedly tedious array of tests, both physical and mental. I am very interested in preserving your species for all time… humanity is a race that can regularly produce individuals with a rare combination of emotion balanced by sound wisdom and logic. But if you choose to give in to foolish ideas like escape, sabotage or subterfuge, I may find myself reevaluating my decision regarding the future of your race. My people require loyal, reliable assistants in order to fulfill our highly complex, detailed missions throughout the galaxies in our multitude of universes. Test me to my limits and I shall have no qualms about changing my mind about you. If that happens, your race will be casually discarded along with the rest I have selected."

There was a brief silence in the room as the full meaning behind his warning settled over the two Captains. Kirk broke the silence first with one word. "_Preserve_," he repeated softly with a distinct note of recognition. "I have heard that term before."

"Indeed Captain James T. Kirk, your speculation is accurate in this case. I am indeed a being from a race that you know as the Preservers… perhaps this will be the first topic of discussion between you and Briea." The Sentinel stood up, rising to his full six foot height and buttoning his gray jacket at the waist. "Kusival will stop by shortly and assign you both to guest quarters. Once again I would like to welcome you aboard the _Dokimasia_. I encourage both of you to begin studying our history and exploring your new future here." With that said, he walked directly toward the wall with the exit and its door snapped expectantly open for him. In seconds he was gone.

* * *

Picard remained on his feet, carefully examining the well tended, bandaged cuts and bruises on his arms and legs. Kirk remained sitting, deep in thought, analyzing the Sentinel's last words carefully. Finally, he looked at the other Captain. "That blowgun idea should have worked on most humanoid species," he remarked with a dark hint of a smile. "I have no memory of any tests conducted on the planet's surface, apparently because the previous copy of me failed to survive."

"If I hadn't been beamed aboard this vessel, I would have certainly fallen to my own death. My hands and arms were fatigued to their limits after hanging off the side of a precipice. And for the record, the blowgun idea was my _last_ choice for a weapon," replied Picard grimly. "It took four tries to actually score a hit, the poison could have just as easily killed me instead of my opponent, and I had to get too close to the target in order for it to have any reasonable chance at accuracy. I had lost him for hours until I tried that maneuver, but my opponent immediately picked up my trail again."

"I understand the basic concept of how they work, but I'm not certain I could have built one."

Picard paused for a moment as a torrential flood of memories poured through his thoughts. "My primary hobby – something to occasionally take my mind off the stress of command – is archaeology," he pointed out. "Particularly I have studied artifacts and antiques from alien cultures. I took a class on the construction techniques of ancient weapons used by primitive species just prior to my posting as Captain of the _Enterprise_." Kirk flinched slightly at the mention of the starship name but said nothing. Picard also remained silent for a moment and then asked a simple question. "What is a Preserver?"

James Kirk casually lifted his feet up on the couch and crossed his legs before responding. "In my time, there were always myths and legends on planets I visited, but many had a common theme. They speculated in great detail about an ancient, alien race that once passed through our galaxy. These aliens had apparently discovered indigenous life flourishing on many worlds and sought to spread it to other planets by transplanting some of the humanoids they found. As they 'seeded' our galaxy's planets with life forms, each new culture naturally began developing at its own pace and maintained its own myths and rumors about the 'ancestors' that had originally created their world. As the generations passed, some referred to them as gods and goddesses, others called them Archons, but most – most of the cultures that I met – knew them only as 'the Preservers'."

Captain Picard nodded in recognition. "I too have studied many of these theories regarding the 'seeding' of life throughout our galaxy," he admitted. "Although I don't think that I've ever heard the term 'Preservers' before."

"Many of Starfleet's original five year missions located actual physical evidence of a super species," continued Kirk. "On one planet we found what looked to be a peaceful, transplanted Native American Indian population. Its people were thriving on a world whose orbit constantly passed through a dangerous belt of asteroids. To protect their colony, the Preservers left behind an 'obelisk' of technology with its control systems set on automatic. All the inhabitants knew was that it was there, they had no idea what it truly was or that it was set to fire a deflector beam each time an asteroid passed too close. When my ship and crew first arrived at the planet we didn't know about the obelisk, but we had detected an asteroid getting dangerously close and planned to warn the inhabitants. We located the technology soon enough after beaming down, discovering eventually that over the years it had malfunctioned. My First Officer restored the deflector to full operational status in time to save the planet, but we never did discover just who had left it behind so many years ago in order to protect those people."

"Did you teach the inhabitants how to make use of the technology?" Picard's curiosity was stirred, even though his physical body remained battered and bruised to its limits.

Kirk stared straight ahead for a brief time, remembering about those days long past and then slowly shook his head back and forth. "No," he declared finally. "Although the aliens had violated our Prime Directive, we decided to simply have a starship stop by now and then to make certain the deflector was on-line and functioning properly. Anything else would have been a disruption in the normal way of life for the planet's inhabitants. My prolonged presence there had disrupted them enough."

"That technology could have been left by anybody… it didn't necessarily have to be the Preservers."

"_The device you speak of _was_ left by the Preservers_." The brief sentence was the first time Briea had spoken since the Sentinel had left.

"How do you _know_ that?" Kirk wondered. "It's a big galaxy out there and I never specifically mentioned which planet we were on."

"_I have access to the Nexus database and thus also to your memory files. In addition to the incident where you met the woman known as Miramanee, your starship journeys have brought you in contact with many civilizations touched by the Preservers. I can also confirm that another planet you visited – the one where you found the super computer peacefully controlling its population – was also a project initiated by the Sentinel's people. I believe you knew the creator of that computer as Landru_."

"Oh now _there_ was a wonderful experiment if ever I've seen one," snapped Kirk acidly. "It _was_ a peaceful planet, but only because everyone's brain was hooked into the central mainframe. With few exceptions, most of the inhabitants had absolutely _no_ independent initiative; virtually every aspect of their daily lives was run by software." He paused, thinking. "Was Landru a Preserver?"

"_No but he had direct contact with them for a time and came to know them as Archons. He was trained by them… an experiment to see if the Preservers could assist primitive people in evolving more quickly into a modern society. The attempt failed and there was brutal war for many years until Landru created the computer that enforced peace and a simpler way of life upon all citizens_."

Picard shook his head in disgust. "Based upon everything I have observed since coming here, it sounds to me as though the Sentinel and his people like playing God."

Briea the sentient computer was quick to agree. "_There have been many great debates in recent centuries about that _very_ subject_," she informed them. "_Many of the Sentinel's people agree with the concept of spreading life in the hopes that more of it will flourish, but not with the often violent, invasive tests that are frequently conducted on test subjects from those cultures. Many consider it barbaric, but there are a growing number of Preservers who believe that such actions are necessary in order to maximize the propagation of life everywhere_."

"You can officially list me in the category of those who consider it _barbaric_," growled Captain Picard. A thought struck him and he decided to pursue it. "Does part of this 'transplanting of life' process also include terra-forming?" he asked inquisitively. "Is that why so _many_ worlds in our galaxy just happen to be habitable?"

"_Affirmative_," confirmed Briea. "_Terra-forming is still considered a massive endeavor even by the people in your century Captain Picard, but the Preservers can go far beyond simple terra-forming. With the proper resources available to them, they can and often will build whole new worlds_," she told them. "_Vessels like the_ Dokimasia _can actually change the orbit of a planet, relocating it to a distance ideal for plants, animals and humanoids. Larger vessels from our vast fleet of colony ships can actually refuel and relocate entire stars, if necessary_."

"Build planets?" Kirk was a bit skeptical, but he feigned more emotion than he felt to see just how much information he and Captain Picard could obtain from the computer. "I'd have to see that to believe it."

"_But you _have_ seen it Captain Kirk_," insisted Briea. "_Do you really believe that the world on which you found the girl Miri – almost an exact duplicate of your Earth – evolved purely by chance?_"

James Kirk was visibly startled at the mention of Miri's name. "That world was _built_ by you?"

"_By the people I serve, yes_," Briea confirmed. "_Since Earth is such an unexplained, ideal world for life forms to thrive on, Miri's planet was another in a long list of experiments. The _entire_ solar system is a Preserver construct in fact: its dying star was refueled and its radiance restored to that of a younger star, native planets were relocated to more distant orbits, and Miri's planet was created to match your Earth using material from one of the system's asteroid belts. The inhabitants transplanted there, unfortunately, became far too focused on the medicine of prolonging life instead of living it. In the end, their obsessive experiments to preserve youth ended up destroying everyone except for a few children_."

"How many _other_ unsolved Starfleet mysteries do you have the answers to?" asked Picard angrily. "Is that what you do here on the _Dokimasia_ and the other ships in your fleet… plant sentient life on new worlds and then sit back and watch them war with each other and destroy themselves?"

"_The answer may anger you further Captain Picard, but I would have to say yes_," decided Briea. "_You have yet to grasp the concept of just how _many_ galaxies the Sentinel's people support… how many worlds they have populated with living, growing cultures throughout the centuries. You have yet to understand just how closely they watch those developing cultures to see which ones learn from war, and which are consumed by it_."

"It sounds as though this Sentinel of yours thinks of us as nothing more than test subjects… like simple laboratory animals that he can experiment upon," prodded Kirk.

"_It wasn't always that way James Kirk. But for many centuries now there has been a faction among the Preservers who have begun abandoning the older, traditional ways. As our culture has expanded our efforts to more and more galaxies – to mirror universes even – the need to recruit additional labor has grown considerably_."

"So that's why we're here," growled Picard irritably. "To serve as your slaves in this vast effort to disseminate life everywhere?"

"_Essentially you are correct_," Briea confirmed, her voice actually sounding sympathetic. "_Part of the Sentinel's plan has always been to recruit you both for your leadership skills. Pending final approval, you will be admitted into his Guild and assigned to projects that may or may not keep you in your home galaxy. Unfortunately new recruits have very little say in the matter until they earn experience points_."

"What if we refuse?" Kirk had been thinking the question even as he listened to her, so he did not see a reason not to ask.

"_You two have passed the Sentinel's tests and now speak for your race. If you refuse then you do so for all of humanity, and all of humanity will pay the price. The Sentinel will simply discard your race as an extinct one and choose another more willing to cooperate. He may not recruit all of the skills and experience he is seeking with your people, but in the end what he wants most is to recruit additional life forms to assist with the many projects assigned to him_."

Picard glanced at Kirk, clearly puzzled. "But you have said we are _copies_," he pointed out. "Doesn't that mean our real selves have returned to their normal lives?

From her tone, Briea was clearly concerned at the prospect of their reaction upon learning the Sentinel's plans. "_The real James Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard_ have _indeed successfully returned to your 24__th__ century_," she admitted. "_However, the Sentinel is in the process of terminating all life in the Milky Way as of the start of your 28__th__ century_." Her voice quavered as the complete and utter expressions of horror on their faces clearly agitated the sentient computer system. "_Your galaxy is being purged so that life forms living in timeframes prior to the termination point can be recruited from its past. Many centuries after the termination point, a variety of new life forms will be seeded back into your emptied galaxy in order to begin developing additional new species for recruitment_."

Picard sat down quietly in one of the chairs next to Kirk. "How do we stop this?" he demanded angrily. "Briea, _how_ do we change the Sentinel's mind?"

"_You can't_," she replied softly. "_The debate has already been held and your fate decided_."


	5. Counterpoint

**_Author's Notes:_ **For those of you who continue to read and review, a profound **THANK YOU!!!!** For those of you who add my stories to your favorites or **"C2"** collections, another big, profound **THANK YOU!!!!** One of these days I plan to start one of my own, but first I have to get rid of my writing bug so that I can **READ** more and **TYPE** less!

While responding to one of **Le'letha**'s enthusiastic reviews the other day I mentioned to her the heart and soul that inspired this story. That would have to be the "Pocket Books" novel "Triangle" by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath, so all due credit goes to those two ladies. They were the first that I know of (and co-authors of the story) to address the issue of a "super species" and whether or not we - as mere humans - are simply lab rats to them. As I admitted to **Le'letha**, I didn't understand the book at all as a high school kid, but when I reread it as an adult I was truly fascinated by the exploration and depth these ladies put into just what constitutes a living, sentient being and the debate over where to draw the line where experimentation is concerned.

Marshak and Culbreath even inspired my first Trek fanfic. They had an address in the back of the book where you could send your stuff for review. Unfortunately that first fanfic I ever wrote was a clunky, cumbersome thing that borrowed enormously from other books and episodes... I got the inspiration after reading actual fan fiction published in paperbacks that I purchased from bookstores while in college. So after seeing that address in the back of "Triangle", I sent Marshak and Culbreath that first typed text of a novel. They never got it... the book was a republishing of an earlier publishing, etc. and the P.O. box had long since been closed down. Not to be stopped, I resent the copy directly to "Pocket Books". Again it came back with a typed letter stating that there was no time to review my work due to _an enormous amount of submitted material already in-house_. After seeing all the stories posted out here, I realize that the letter didn't even scratch the surface of just what fan fiction is. It is us... throwing a part of ourselves into the stories we love so much. Trek will always be a part of my life, it is as old as I am!

* * *

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter V: Counterpoint

* * *

**

Alpha Quadrant, Starship _U.S.S. Relativity_, 28th Century

* * *

"_Captain's Log, Supplemental: The starships _Relativity, Hillyer_ and _Nautilus_ have rendezvoused as ordered in the 28__th__ century in close proximity to a location where one of the subspace probes is scheduled to appear. Detailed sensor sweeps of both the Alpha and Beta Quadrants have revealed no additional clues as to what is about to take place. Currently we have discovered no signs of hostile activity; the area is quiet and completely peaceful."

* * *

_

The small bridge of the _Relativity_ was fully staffed this time, with nine crewmembers busily studying sensor telemetry as Data stood alongside the starboard handrail and watched silently. During all of the years he had served with Jean-Luc Picard, the Captain had never taken the time to warn him of the helpless feeling that ship commanders sometimes felt during pressure situations. There were decisions to be made and orders to be given, but once that was done all a Captain could do on most occasions was to stand back patiently and allow his crewmembers to carry out those orders. This was definitely one of those times, and a tiny electrical surge from his emotion chip was all it took to keep him slightly on edge while waiting for new information.

"So far there's absolutely nothing out of the ordinary registering on sensors Captain," Commander Ducane reported, spinning in his seat and glancing up at the android leaning against the railing above him. "There are no indications that anything unusual is taking place." He shifted his gaze temporarily back to his console, where bright yellow and red warning indicators continued to flash. The alarm klaxons had been turned off, but the emergency situation and accompanying red alert status was still very much in effect. "Ten minutes remain until the expected temporal incursion begins… I strongly recommend that we leave the area before it happens, just to be safe."

Data nodded in acknowledgement. "Recommendation noted," he replied coolly, redirecting his attention to Lt. Ingram. "What is the duration of the signal emitted by the subspace probes? At what point do they stop broadcasting?"

Ingram shook her blonde head with disbelief as she accessed the data necessary to answer his question. "_All_ probes – each and every one of them – are _still_ emitting their killing transmission as far into the future I can scan, past even our departure point in the 29th century."

"If that is the case, Commander Ducane, then I believe we can safely conclude that the probes cannot reach us so long as we remain out of phase with normal space/time." Data found himself quite certain of his conclusion, since they had traveled from a time when the intruder beacons were still active. "However, we will nevertheless take adequate precautions. Lt. Ingram, please contact the Captains of the other two starships and have them return to the 29th century. The _Relativity_ will remain behind for the moment to observe the probe as it appears in this area of space, so that we can conduct a more detailed sensor analysis of the device and study its broadcast parameters."

"Aye sir," she acknowledged, activating their Comm-link. A moment later she nodded confidently to him. "Confirmation has been received from both the starships _Hillyer_ and _Nautilus_; they are setting course and time coordinates for a return voyage to the 29th century." Her expression grew frustrated and her blue eyes flashed. "They haven't discovered anything unusual either, Captain. Whatever is about to take place obviously happens pretty quickly and with very little advance warning."

It took all of their remaining patience but they waited, each of them working swiftly but efficiently as the deadline approached. Data temporarily reactivated his interface with the _Relativity_'s main computer in order to personally observe the event. In effect, he used the starship's sensors as an extension of himself, focusing all of the starship's available detection equipment specifically on the area where the interruption in the normal flow of space/time was scheduled to appear. Silence temporarily ruled the bridge until finally Ducane emitted an excited shout. "_There!_" he said with determined focus, adjusting the viewscreen so that everyone could observe the event taking place. "I'm detecting a massive neutrino surge one hundred kilometers off our port bow."

An eerie, wicked green glow flashed for just an instant in the star speckled blackness of empty space. It lasted just long enough for them to notice that _something_ out of the ordinary was there before fading away to nothing. Data stood silently, his positronic matrix processing the sensor data as fast as it was received. In the blink of an eye, he was able to compare the event to millions of celestial events stored on file in the _Relativity_'s database and discard most of them as irrelevant. The few remaining possibilities remained at the center of his thoughts even though he knew that it was _also_ very possible that this was an event that had never before been recorded in the history of Starfleet.

"It's happening just as predicted in the timeline map that we recorded several hours ago," noted Ingram. "A micro-wormhole through time opened just long enough in subspace to deposit the probe. I'm trying to trace its origin but we didn't have much of an opportunity to scan it. The wormhole opened and then closed in less than three seconds." She took a deep breath and glanced at one of the women standing behind her. "Ensign Murry, I could use some help over here." Seconds later, both Ingram and the Ensign were focusing their combined attention on tracking the source of the strange device.

"Intriguing," commented Data as he adjusted his interface parameters to filter out the unimportant details of the Relativity's sensor scan so he could more closely study the critical ones. "The probe is cylindrical and has a diameter of 41.25 meters. Its hull is composed of an alloy containing 70 percent neutronium along with a mixture of three other metallic elements. Two of the elements are unknown; something never before encountered by our science and quite probably artificially created in a laboratory. The probe's power source and internal operation remains unknown to us, since even a direct, focused scan of the device has so far failed to penetrate its outer hull."

Ducane adjusted the viewscreen to a closer magnification of the device, allowing everyone on the bridge to observe the device visually. "I've never seen so many subspace transceivers in my life," he commented, feeling a dark, ominous chill even though the bridge temperature was closely monitored. He realized suddenly that the mere presence of the alien device in the Alpha Quadrant rattled him more than a little bit now that he knew specifically _why_ it was here. The Commander took careful note of the massive, detailed array of equipment located on both the top and bottom of the object. "The subspace transmission initiated four point one seconds after arrival… admittedly a great plan on the part of whoever did this. We have detected the attack and returned to this point in time, but unless the transmission terminates we cannot decloak in order to approach the device in order to make a closer, physical inspection." He looked at his Captain with an expression of outrage. "Even in our own century we can't do anything to stop them because _those damned things are still transmitting_."

"Sensor scan complete," Data announced. He terminated his link with the _Relativity_'s main computer and descended to the lower section of the bridge. He paused just behind Ducane and Ingram, studying the viewscreen and its image of the sphere. The dark shades of gray and black of the alien device appeared menacing, as did the glittering, sharp tipped clusters of subspace transceivers above and below. "Notice the raised, hieroglyphic markings on the side of the cylinder," he pointed out. "Those markings are similar to bits and pieces of a style I have seen before. I believe a search of our main computer's database will reveal that they are, in fact, synonymous with other excerpts on file from the language of an ancient race known as the Preservers."

The emotional weight of all that happened suddenly hit Ducane like a physical slap to the face. He leaned back in his seat and his expression clouded over with anger. "With respect Captain, I really don't care about _where_ it came from or _who_ that thing belongs to," he snapped. "I want to find a way to stop it… them… to stop _all_ of them."

Data took careful note of his Commander's tightly controlled rage. "What would you suggest?"

"Captain, I recommend that we adjust our weapons so that they phase back into normal space/time upon leaving our outer shield perimeter. Let's attempt to slice through the object's hull and see what's inside of it. We can't stop them if we don't know how they function."

"Agreed."

Ducane activated the vessel's tactical systems and charged the weapons. "Phasers are hot and firing sir," he noted. "Maximum intensity." Everyone except Lt. Ingram and Ensign Murry watched the dark orange directed energy discharges lance out at the strange, alien object. The beams halted several meters from the device, their intense, focused energy dissipating rapidly across a bright golden bubble of energy protecting the probe. As the phaser beams faded away the probe's shield vanished once more as well, conserving its power source by remaining invisible unless touched. "Switching to wingtip disruptors," announced the Commander. Bright green pulses of disruptor fire also struck the alien object's shielding but also failed to pierce the deflector shielding.

"Adjust our course to a new location in case the object has defensive weapons of its own," suggested Data. As Ducane nodded and complied with the order the Captain came to a decision of his own. "Target the alien object with our primary disruptor and continue changing our position while firing randomly through our cloak… we'll have to chance destroying the probe entirely if we are to find a way through its shielding."

The rest of them watched as Ducane powered up their powerful, central weapon built directly into the Timeship's nose. Hot, sparkling flashes of emerald-colored energy repeatedly pounded the protective shielding surrounding the probe. The first volley was deflected easily, but follow up attacks pierced the enemy deflectors and sliced into the metallic outer hull of the cylinder. Bright angry flashes of glowing orange sparks appeared wherever the _Relativity_'s primary weapon blasts touched the alien metal, but the dark metallic object never for an instant appeared to move in the slightest or suffer damage. It simply hung there in space. Seemingly untouched, the object continued to broadcast its deadly alien signal. Seconds later the Commander sighed with obvious frustration and ceased fire. "Even our most powerful disruptor blasts are completely ineffective… none of our directed energy weapons appears able to penetrate that unknown metal. Shall I try torpedoes?"

"Negative, their energy output will also likely fail against the alien shielding and we have no way of replacing them after they are gone." Data turned thoughtfully toward Lt. Ingram. "I hope you have had some luck in locating the origin of these devices," he said expectantly. "Unless we can locate their launching point we're stuck here, taking on these probes one at a time. Thus far they have proven to be extremely durable."

Ingram handed Ensign Murry a padd she had just loaded with sensor data. "I'm transferring a copy of this down to Engineering too," she told the Ensign. "Get down there right away and see what Lt. Commander Yantzer and you can come up with." The short, dark-haired Murry nodded at her colleague and headed swiftly for the turbolift. Ingram took a moment to gather her thoughts before addressing her Captain. "The probes were launched at some point in the future sir… farther ahead even than our own 29th century." She shrugged her shoulders, anticipating his next question. "I can't give you a specific date and time yet – the micro-wormholes were open for only a few seconds and our sensor beams passed only partway through the subspace corridor inside. Thus far we've got a general, _estimated_ direction pointing to a launch point outside of our galaxy, past the outer spiral arm of the Beta Quadrant. Our quantum dating of the probe's outer hull reveals that they came from at least the 35th century, possibly farther into the future even than that."

Captain Data nodded. "My analysis of the sensor telemetry agrees with yours," he agreed. "The information we have gathered is helpful, but will not prove helpful enough if we are to successfully initiate a counter response."

Ingram studied the stern look on his android features. "What do you suggest?" she asked.

The android smiled at her. "While linked with the ship's main computer, I conducted a detailed evaluation of the _Relativity_'s database. I compared our sensor logs of Alpha and Beta Quadrant history while we were in the 29th century against the updated scans the main computer initiated after our arrival. I have discovered that at least one stellar object that should be here is missing. Its disappearance is quite possibly related to this incident."

Ducane rose to his feet. "_What_ is missing?" he asked curiously.

"An unexplained phenomenon known simply as the Nexus," Data informed them. "It is a very dangerous navigational hazard to both ships and nearby inhabited worlds… an energy ribbon generated by an unknown power source. It dips into subspace while traveling around our galaxy, and its origin and purpose here are a mystery that has never been resolved. I find it extremely interesting that our newest scans – those made after the arrival of the probes – are showing that the Nexus vanished sometime late in the 25th century. Other than that, all other stellar objects – with few exceptions – appear to be unchanged for a distance as far as our sensors are able to scan. Since the disappearance took place _prior_ to the arrival of the probes, it is quite likely that that incident is related to this one."

"But that's just _one_ unexplained disappearance," the Commander observed. "Compared to the destructive nature of these probes, and the fact that they continue to broadcast a killing signal well past our own 29th century… isn't the larger problem right here and now?"

Data regarded Ducane thoughtfully. "Is it?" he prompted, watching the Commander grow more and more frustrated at the perplexing mystery facing them. "We are at present unable to determine how the alien device functions, and our weapons have proven to be useless against its outer hull and shielding. I find it highly interesting that the _only_ other irregularity in all of the space spanning the Alpha and Beta Quadrants is an object catalogued as an unexplained navigational hazard that – for the most part – is avoided by all ships with Captains who are aware of its destructive nature."

Ingram remained seated but she swiveled in her seat to face them. "I was thinking of triangulating in on the source of those micro-wormholes," she admitted. "However, if we traveled to the location of the other probes it wouldn't help us much since they all appeared here in the 28th century at the same moment in time. We would be attempting to home in on a series of wormholes originating from a century in our far distant future, and for that…"

"…we would need to study at least two different incursions at different points in _time_," Ducane realized. "That's a great idea Jess," he told her with a relieved smile. "If it is related to all of this, the Nexus vanishing just might help us out after all."

The Captain's gaze drifted to the dark, sinister shape of the alien object still floating on the viewscreen. "We must be very careful," he cautioned them. "We are dealing with an alien race that undoubtedly has technology and capabilities far superior to our own. This incursion into our history has all the appearances of a trap… those of us who survived the destruction of our galaxy have been given just enough clues to lead us somewhere."

"Agreed Captain," said Ducane. "Since the signal from those probes is unable to reach us as long as we're phased out of normal space/time, it is entirely possible that whoever is behind this doesn't want to bother searching for us… why would they need to if they can tempt us into coming directly to them."

"Why would whoever did this _need_ to leave clues?" countered Ingram. "Their incursion spans nearly a millennium. With those devices broadcasting a transmission deadly to sentient life, all they have to do is wait us out. Sooner or later our cloaking shield will fail without the normal space dock maintenance required when it is powered off. When that occurs, the _Relativity_ will phase back into normal space and we'll die along with everyone else."

"The unfortunate reality of our situation is that we have a very real, very dangerous enemy targeting our entire galaxy," concluded Data. "This is not a normal temporal incursion… it is a deliberate, calculated attempt to rewrite all of history occurring after the start of the 28th century. What we will likely require – if we are to have any hope of successfully confronting our opponent – is assistance from skilled tactical experts and experienced combat veterans. Due primarily to the prolonged period of peace that we have enjoyed in the 29th century, most of you unfortunately do not have the needed experience." His attention shifted momentarily to an internal search in his database. "The crews of the _Hillyer_ and _Nautilus_ also have well-trained, but inexperienced combat personnel. We must remedy this problem immediately, since Lt. Ingram is quite correct in her analysis. As soon as our shields fail, we will all perish along with any hope of restoring life to our galaxy along with its modern history."

"As you know, we usually don't require assistance," the Commander reminded him. "During the incident with Captain Braxton, we ended up recruiting both Kathryn Janeway and a member of her crew. Since they lived in the timeframe involved and were most familiar with how to behave and not draw attention to themselves, Captain Braxton felt their presence was necessary to complete the investigation with minimal alterations to the timeline." He scratched his head as he puzzled the matter over. "We left the memories of both people intact, so if they hadn't already been beamed through time on several occasions I would definitely recommend making use of our transporter and recruiting them again." He waved a hand toward the transporter platform on the upper, starboard side of the bridge above them. "Unfortunately for us, transporting people through time and space takes its toll on a humanoid body so it wouldn't be safe to continue using those same individuals even if they are best suited to help us."

"I am familiar with the incident concerning your former Captain Braxton," mused Data, his own gaze drifting up toward the bridge transporter system. "And I agree that Starfleet veterans of that era would be of great help to us." He abruptly reached a decision. "Activate our temporal warp core," he said to Ducane. "We're going to make an extra stop before visiting the site where the Nexus vanished."

Although both the Commander and Lt. Ingram asked, the Captain declined – for the moment – to explain his intentions in greater detail. In fact, Data even made it a point to dismiss them and end the extensive overtime they had already served. He suggested that his valued senior officers get some much needed rest, assuring them that he would manage things for awhile working with the junior officers assigned to replace them. After realizing that he hadn't slept in more than a day, Ingram and Ducane reluctantly agreed with the Captain's recommendation.

* * *

Ducane showered and then took a brief, four hour nap. Upon awakening he used the replicator in his small cabin to generate a small meal, eating quickly and then putting on a clean uniform. The alert lights built into the bulkhead continued to blink bright red, and the Commander wondered briefly if they would ever reach a time when they could turn off the red alert and things would be normal again. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn't even realized that more than a full day had already elapsed since the start of their current crisis. The concept of all life in the galaxy so suddenly vanishing without a trace had never occurred to him… an attack on _all_ of history had never been attempted before. That someone could conceive of such a thing, much less actually take action to bring about such a devastating result both shocked and revolted him. 

He caught a glance of space through the only window in the small room, noticing an odd, brightly energized white mist with a slight bluish cast to it idly drifting by. He moved toward the outer hull and – upon closer inspection – recognized the familiar looking energy clouds as those created by the _Relativity_'s movement through time. Obviously the Captain had made the decision to move the Timeship while his command team rested, and what he was seeing was the edge of an open, temporal rift in space/time. After recognizing the outer event horizon of the wormhole common to time travel, the Commander was eager to return to the bridge and discover if there was anything new regarding the unbelievably dangerous situation that now confronted them.

Ducane was already in the turbolift when his Comm-badge chimed for attention. "_Commander Ducane, please report to the bridge_."

"Acknoweldged Captain," he replied, waiting impatiently as the lift continued its ascent toward the _Relativity_'s small command center.

Jess Ingram was already back at her station when he arrived, looking as fresh-faced and ready for duty as ever. Ducane sighed, ignoring the mental clutter still clouding his mind and sat down beside her. He was about to bait her with an emotional, off-the-cuff sarcastic remark when he noticed the Intrepid-Class starship displayed on the main viewscreen. It was tightly gripped in their tractor beam, weaving back and forth as its crew fought desperately to break their vessel free. Behind the starship, the temporal rift generated by the _Relativity_ was already diminishing in size as it closed… to the Commander it was obvious that they had moved back through it while towing the other starship along with them.

"We have successfully moved to our next time and location in the 25th century," announced Lt. Ingram with satisfaction. "According to our latest available data, the Nexus will vanish in 92 minutes."

Ducane couldn't resist turning toward his Captain with a puzzled look on his face. "Obviously you have been busy while I was gone sir. May I ask what you did?"

"Certainly," replied Data. "Since our need for experienced officers on this occasion is greater than normal, and since beaming people individually through space/time can be hazardous to their health, I have recruited the starship _Voyager_ along with its entire crew to help us resolve this matter."

The Commander had gained a lot of experience during his brief time as the _Relativity_'s Captain. After Braxton stepped down and before Data took over, he had run the ship long enough as interim Captain to experience the full emotional weight of commanding the starship. Thus he was not easily ruffled, but even so he found himself exhaling sharply with surprise at the android's announcement. "You have recruited… _Voyager_," he gasped with disbelief.

"Affirmative," the Captain confirmed.

As Data spoke the Comm-link next to Jess Ingram lit up, beeping sharply for attention. "_This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship_ Voyager," a familiar voice crackled… Ducane knew he would never forget her. "_Please explain immediately as to just _why_ you have abducted my ship or I will have no choice but to order my tactical officer to fire on you_."

"Commander, since you are the most familiar with Captain Janeway and the crew member recruited during the Braxton incident, I would appreciate it if you would personally contact Captain Janeway and invite the Captain's command staff to join us. Right now she is understandably agitated, since we have extracted them from their own century without first asking their permission."

"Certainly sir." Ducane couldn't help but smile with amusement as he and Jess Ingram switched seats so that he could access the subspace transceiver on her console. On more than one occasion _Voyager_'s seemingly non-stop exploration of the Delta Quadrant had triggered temporal incursion alarms in the 29th century. So the Commander found it only fitting that – at least this one more time – he had the opportunity to turn the tables on Janeway. _Some days you make more work for me_, he thought silently, _and on other days I get to assign you additional things to do_.

The Commander contacted Captain Janeway and discovered her bridge crew to be just as angry as she was. After taking a few minutes to calm them down, he was able to convince Janeway and her senior officers to beam aboard the _Relativity_ so that a more detailed explanation of the situation could be given. Rising from his seat, he ascended the small flight of stairs and moved to the upper starboard walkway of the bridge. His intention was to use the transporter to beam _Voyager_'s landing party aboard, but Ducane paused in shock as he realized that Captain Data had already made use of the device.

Standing next to the android Captain was a tall, broad-shouldered Starfleet officer with dark black skin and a shaved, bald head. He wore a full beard, had Captain's bars on his uniform and appeared just as upset as Janeway had at the unexpected abduction. "I am glad you are here, Commander," decided Data as Ducane moved toward the two of them. "This is Captain Benjamin Sisko, and like the crew of _Voyager_ he is also from the 24th century. However, he does not have a history with us in the same manner that Captain Janeway does and thus seems unfamiliar with the concept of time cops from the future. I would appreciate it if we could bring _Voyager_'s away team aboard as quickly as possible so that they can assist us in enlightening the good Captain here."

For the second time since returning to duty, Ducane felt astonishment and surprise at his Captain's bold moves. "It's good to see you didn't waste any time recruiting allies, sir," he decided wryly.


	6. Glimpses Into Eternity

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter VI: Glimpses Into Eternity

* * *

**

Jean-Luc Picard had no idea what the outside of the _Dokimasia_ looked like, but he was becoming more and more familiar with its vast interior as each new day passed. Currently he and Captain Kirk were on a tour of the vessel's spacious interior that would end with the massive engine assembly located at the rear of the ship – their new 'friend' the Sentinel had personally volunteered to take a few hours and introduce them to Kusival and his crew.

The entire process was a bit intimidating, since Kusival's rather sinister species of alien was extremely tall and thin. All of them were over seven feet tall, with extra long arms and legs, bony fingers, with gray, mottled skin shrunken so tight around their skeleton-like frames that they almost certainly lacked a normal circulatory system. And whereas the Sentinel had black irises in his eyes instead of a normal colored iris and pupil, Kusival's people had no white in their eyes. They looked at the world around them with blank, dark black, emotionless eyeballs that conveyed no emotional feelings whatsoever. Very few of them ever spoke, so whatever passed for communication between the crew of the strange vessel was obviously something other than mere words.

After careful observation for several days, the two Starfleet Captains now believed that they had discovered at least part of the reason for the awkward silences. The tall, broad-shouldered alien known as the Sentinel was quite simply used to speaking, while everyone else said nothing unless first spoken to. Like any ship commander, their adversary had established his presence as an authoritative one. James Kirk – having personally experienced firsthand the computer's ability to detect misbehavior and promptly punish it – had been the first to suggest that Picard restrain his instincts to lash out and limit what he talked about. As they learned more and more about their strange, powerful opponent and his strange motives, however, Picard knew that it was only a matter of time before either he or Kirk acted.

Each deck of the _Dokimasia_ was – in essence – a major city filled with hundreds of thousands of workers, with each level dedicated to a specific purpose. One of the lower decks was filled with a sprawling, forested woodland where alien workers lived in log cabins deliberately constructed for temporary housing. It was obvious just from a short visit that they were used to laboring day after day with modern farm equipment in order to plant and grow vegetation, crops, and trees. Some areas were just being seeded, while others contained dozens of acres of land fully grown and just waiting to be transplanted onto some strange new world.

A deck above the forest level was a huge manufacturing area, its industrial output dedicated to designing and building replacement parts along with other technology needed to keep the enormous starship functional. A deck higher revealed huge tanks containing reservoirs of fresh water, refined fuel, and other complex liquid chemicals. The entire starship was completely self-sufficient and able to produce all of the supplies it needed for space travel… indeed, most of its excess resources usually ended up transported to the worlds that the starship visited. If the _Dokimasia_ had ever stopped at a space dock, pointed out the Sentinel, it had been some time ago… long before he had come aboard to command.

"You have such a tremendous ability to help those in need… those who live on worlds that need to be tamed for optimum living conditions," observed Picard. "It truly saddens me to see you tapping sentient species to use as your slave labor."

"Everyone who receives a service owes some sort of payment in return," responded the Sentinel coolly. "What my people take as compared to what they give is considerably small." As if reading Picard's mind, he promptly provided an example. "Your galaxy has been filled with life for thousands of millenia. But it wasn't until we passed through and seeded planets with sentient life and the resources necessary to sustain them that the Milky Way truly flourished. Life grew so abundant that your own cultures warred repeatedly with one another, fighting for dominance. I have allowed your galaxy to thrive up until its modern day 28th century… those people have all led solid, happy lives. What I ask in return is that you allow my people to copy those individuals from that galaxy who possess the skills that we need to help us give other galaxies that same chance to thrive."

"_You_… have allowed our galaxy to thrive," muttered Kirk disdainfully. He continued studying the surrounding environment and said nothing further.

"Even as a copy of the original Picard, I still remain a sentient being," declared Picard sharply. "To hold me against my will is clearly kidnapping, and what you intend to use us for is nothing less than oppressive slavery." His mouth tightened into a thin line as his frustration grew. "You run dangerous experiments on us… _you kill us_…"

"And as you tour my ship, I hope you will begin to understand _why_," snapped the Sentinel coldly. He cocked his head oddly to one side and a circle of glittering green lights on the top of his metallic helmet flickered in response. A large emerald transporter field enveloped them and instantly beamed the group to their next destination.

From the safety of a high balcony with a tall hand railing, the humans, Kusival, and the Sentinel all looked down at a cavernous engine room that was kilometers in length, stretching back toward the rear of the ship as far as they could see. The distant floor below was crowded with huge forklifts, cranes and the massive curve of multiple engine pods… equipment so massive and sophisticated in detail that it dwarfed anything that the two Captains had previously considered a space ship. If there had been any doubts before, it was now plainly obvious to the two humans that the _Dokimasia_ was in reality an artificially constructed space station… something so massive in size and crewed by so many hundreds of thousands of individuals that it was a mobile world of its own and no mere starship.

"I must admit, this is all very impressive," decided Picard, searching for a way to casually probe for additional details. "However, without first observing the vessel from the outside my imagination admittedly has its limits. What we've seen thus far are corridors and cities stretching as far as the eye can see in all directions. Your ship is vast beyond the ability of mere words to describe."

The Sentinel laughed loudly, sensing what the Captain was up to and reacting in an unconcerned, nonchalant manner. "From the outside, the _Dokimasia_ is almost completely invisible," he pointed out, unconcerned by Picard's interest. "The hull is composed of neutronium mixed with elements specifically created to render the metal stronger and dark black. Much of our galactic construction efforts occur near populated star systems, so stealth is most definitely a desirable quality for us. We cannot be seen by most sensor technology, and our presence is often detectable only by those who are familiar with the physical laws of our universe." His voice was strong and sure, audible even above the roaring drone of the mighty engine pods below them. "Think of this vessel as a very long, slender torpedo-like cylinder with a bulb at the stern," he suggested. "These engines we see here are located at the rear of the vessel, while my test planet is attached – using large, flexible metallic clamps and force fields – to its bow. This starship is one of our smaller but more reliable configurations… using it we can literally change the orbit of small planets and moons. Larger versions of this type are also available to relocate gas giants and even more sizeable vessels work with stars."

"That last part remains difficult for me to believe," Picard replied. "I would not think that you could build anything capable of moving a star…"

"With a large enough energy source available to power our systems, even the toughest challenges in the universe cannot withstand our will to reshape whole galaxies and saturate them with life," the Sentinel told him. "Kusival's people – and other races like them – are very skilled at using force fields to shield our vessels from a star's heat. We simply shut down its internal nuclear fission, move it to a new location - or simply refuel it just like any other gas giant – and then reignite the star's core once we have completed our work." He led them away from the railing and back into an interior corridor of the ship, growing suddenly quiet for a moment.

Picard risked a casual glance back, and it seemed to him as though the Sentinel was carefully listening to someone, and obviously listening very carefully using that oddly constructed, sophisticated electronic headset he continually wore on each occasion that they had observed him. Shifting his gaze toward Kirk, Picard noticed that his fellow Captain was also very interested in the Sentinel's movements. Though he had seldom spoken on this latest tour, Picard didn't have to be a mind reader to realize that Kirk was sizing up his opponent and already planning his newest attack. He dropped back a step, letting the Sentinel and Captain Kusival take the lead.

"Don't do anything rash," Picard suggested using a low, barely audible whisper. "The artificial intelligence running the main computer is constantly monitoring everything we say or do. You're simply going to get punished again." He glanced around apprehensively. "Or even worse, get us _both_ punished."

"An occasional electrical discharge doesn't frighten me all that much," Kirk said darkly, his voice almost defiant as he hissed out each word. "That guy wants our cooperation – look at him– he absolutely _craves_ it. But he's not going to get it, and he can only kill me once."

"He can only kill _you_ once, but I believe that he has killed James Kirk on at least three occasions already," Picard reminded him. "Unless, of course, you think that he is in fact lying about making copies of us and events that took place on that 'test planet' of his."

Kirk chuckled at the Captain's stern warning. "Just be ready," he said, continuing to keep his own voice so soft that Picard could barely hear the words. "My next test of his defenses is coming as soon as an opportunity presents itself. Whether Briea can hear us or not, it will be interesting to see whether or not she is willing to harm her 'master' in order to stop us."

Captain Picard was still digesting the meaning behind Kirk's words and attempting to determine what his colleague was up to. The voice of Briea unexpectedly interrupted their conversation. "_The Sentinel is _not_ my master_," she declared in a scolding tone. "_And I strongly do not recommend testing_…"

Upon hearing her voice and receiving the confirmation that their whispered conversation was in fact being monitored, Kirk instinctively launched himself directly at the Sentinel. His body was covered with crackling green energy as soon as his feet left the floor, but the Captain's momentum carried him stumbling into the legs of their adversary. The Sentinel's expression changed quickly to a look of pure annoyance as he toppled backward onto Kirk, and the heat of the glowing force field instantaneously faded away completely as the two men came together.

"Impulsive, reckless cowboy diplomacy…" growled Picard less than enthusiastically, although he saw no reason to waste the opportunity. He jumped onto the Sentinel's shoulders and wrapped his arms around the man's face, holding on for dear life as the alien struggled to throw him clear. Kirk continued to hold onto the Sentinel's legs tightly, and all three of them fell sideways onto the metallic floor plating. Kusival stood silently by patiently watching the attack, seeming never to doubt its outcome. Noticing the alien Captain out of the corner of his eye, Picard was noticeably puzzled. It was as though Kusival was choosing specifically not to interfere… as though he somehow sensed that the attack would fail even without his intervening to help.

"_The headset!_ Get the headset device!" Kirk shouted, rolling on top of the fallen Sentinel so that their bodies continued to touch. "That _has_ to be how he passes around orders to his people and controls the ship!" He continued to maintain body contact as the Sentinel tried to rise and face him, continuing to test his working theory that Briea would not attack them as long as the Sentinel also was in danger. Drawing back his right fist, Kirk punched his opponent soundly in the mid-section and he smiled in satisfaction as he heard the alien grunt in reply. He hit the alien again, more solidly this time and the Sentinel doubled over with pain as the punches took their toll on his abdomen.

As the mysterious alien fell forward onto Kirk, Picard neatly extracted the electronic headset from the top of the Sentinel's head and impulsively put it on. It was unusual for him to react in such a manner, but it was already obvious that being around the more impetuous James Kirk the past few days had noticeably affected him. As the device settled onto his scalp he felt the right side of the electronic headset suction itself tightly over his ear. Immediately something cold and metallic touched the vulnerable flesh inside, and his vision blurred and went dark even though he knew that his eyes remained wide open.

_That didn't prevent him from seeing things, however._

A strange explosion of strange lights and sounds filled his mind, and the experience to Picard felt like some sort of waking dream – only it rushed by much more swiftly. Thousands upon thousands of voices could be heard, and this event reminded him briefly of his encounter with the Borg collective even though this experience differed completely. The Borg spoke together, with their words and voice united as one. These voices, by contrast, were the voices of thousands of individuals who all seemed to be speaking at once. Some of them were shouting, others whispered quietly, but most of them were mingled together in a random, completely indistinguishable haze of conversation.

As though an image was projected on the back of his eyeballs Picard's vision cleared unexpectedly, but he did not see the corridor that he was in or the people that he knew still surrounded him. What he did see was something else entirely… images that were not his memories, but something unexplained that was undoubtedly fed directly into his mind by the headset. Somehow, he decided, the electronics he wore allowed him to see with his mind and not his eyes. He was also certain that his thoughts were being significantly amplified by the _Dokimasia_'s sensors, and quite probably by Briea's other, as yet unknown capabilities.

A torrential flood of streaking stars flew past his vision, followed by a non-stop flow of planets, faces, stellar objects, alien species... it was all there and then not there, moving past his thoughts too quickly for him to concentrate on any specific details. The experience was almost overwhelming and the Captain cried out suddenly as he felt a sharp stab of pain in his head – there was simply too much that he was seeing being shown to him far too quickly and his mind was fighting back using the pain as a warning. Gritting his teeth, he made a sincere attempt to focus his attention on his primary objective. As though an imaginary switch had been flipped, all of the images rushing by suddenly slowed to a crawl.

_Home_.

The word stuck in his thoughts and Picard seized upon it, demanding that the device on his head show him the way home.

_How do I get out of here and back to where I belong?_ He asked himself. And it.

Like a colorful blooming flower, a vast new image formed in his mind and expanded outward until it was the central image blocking out all of the others.

_Jean-Luc Picard found himself looking down on a well furnished room from above, as though he were part of its ceiling. Antique chairs surrounding a beautiful table occupied one side of the spacious room, while the other had a colorful, hand woven carpet spread out on a hardwood floor in front of a glowing fireplace. Children's toys were scattered all over the carpet, and two small boys played there by the warmth of the fire, giggling as they shared their fun together. Abruptly one of them grew frustrated and shoved the smaller of the two children and he fell forward, his anger rising quickly as a result of the shove. "Don't be so _mean_ to me Robert," the smaller child snapped. "Ma ma has said on numerous occasions that you are supposed to treat me better."_

_The other boy chuckled at the indignation so apparent in the other. "Don't be silly Jean-Luc," he retorted scornfully. "You're such a small slip of a boy… we've got to toughen you up or you'll be a weakling all the rest of your life."_

_The home that WAS, _an unidentified voice whispered in his mind.

_The image of Picard's childhood vanished as quickly as it had appeared, disappearing as though someone had placed a hand alongside of it and simply shoved it aside. In its place he was now looking at the saucer section of the_ Enterprise-D, _crashed and helpless on the surface of an unknown world. Some of his crew – both men and women – were walking around on top of the saucer as they waved to shuttles passing above them. In the background he could see the dark, ruined trail the ship had carved into the ground as it had descended from orbit and smashed into the ground below. The crashed saucer had emerged from a wooded region, leaving a sizeable number of broken trees and crushed vegetation in its wake. Whatever had happened had been significant and the damage to his ship tremendous._

_Again the image flashed away for something entirely new. This time he was looking at a new_ Enterprise, _the NCC-1701-E, as it flew through space and successfully attacked a Borg cube. It was a beautiful starship, more streamlined and obviously combat ready as compared to the _Enterprise-D_, but certainly this new vessel was not quite as elegant and dedicated to exploration as its predecessor had been. The _Enterprise-E_, by contrast, boasted many more teeth in its arsenal of weapons and prowled the galaxy daring others to mess with it… her crew had been left with no choice over the years but to continually improve their defensive weaponry._

_Sovereign-Class_, the unfamiliar voice whispered again. _The new home that IS for you the original. _

_He watched with fascination as his perspective began pulling rapidly back and away from the _Enterprise-E_. Almost instantly the Sovereign-Class starship dwindled to a tiny pinpoint of light, and the nearby yellow sun of the Sol system swiftly followed suit into the background of stars beyond. The image kept showing him a wider and wider perspective of the stars… first the Orion arm of the Milky Way became visible, followed quickly by its neighboring spiral arms and finally the entire Milky Way dominated his vision with all its billions of stars._

_Jean-Luc watched the image in his mind reverse itself, as though he were looking in a mirror. Suddenly the Milky Way roared toward him again, but this time the Starfleet ships he saw laid waste to everything in their path. He watched a Constitution class starship very similar to James Kirk's – the _Defiant_ – maim and kill the populations of whole planets in the name of an Empress Sato. Before his eyes centuries passed in mere seconds, as an entire Empire rose from the ashes of years of war on Earth, peaked in its 23__rd__ century, and then fell into ruin at the hands of an angry, bitter Klingon, Cardassian, and Bajoran alliance. Earth humans in its 24__th__ century were followed and persecuted wherever they fled, and most of them ended up with no choice but to toil endlessly as slaves in order to keep alive the slim hope of surviving long enough to see one more day. _

_ONE possible home that is NOT yours, _suggested the voice inside Picard's head firmly_. ONE possible home among an INFINITE number of homes._

_As if to prove this point, the image of the mirror universe receded as it had before, and as before the struggling, oppressed humans in the vision that he had been watching shrank instantly into a tiny pinprick of bright light. But this time there were no stars, instead he was looking at a vast, geometrically organized pattern of billions of other points of light that appeared neatly positioned around the central point leading to the evil Starfleet Empire. Picard sensed instinctively that he was looking at an intersection of doorways allowing access to countless other universes. Some of those alternate realities would no doubt be very similar to his own familiar universe… to _his_ home. Others would be vastly different – practice peace or pursue violence; a choice that the populations in each universe were all inevitably forced to make._

_If you had to CHOOSE a door, which would be your one true home and which would be so similar to your own that you would be unable to tell the difference? NOW take a look at THEIR home_, insisted the unknown whispering voice. _A home that will one day also be YOURS._

_The visual imagery in Picard's mind shifted to an alien galaxy, one with more stars but fewer spiral arms than his own. A vast war was being fought there, with conflicts so bitter and intense that entire ships routinely crashed into enemy planets or each other, exploding in huge bursts of expended energy. Thousands upon thousands of lives were extinguished, often in the blink of an eye. Other vessels continued the clash, battling each other over countless centuries – an endless war that grew darker and grimmer with each passing year. Their weapons often obliterated all living things on the enemy planets that they passed. Their war claimed whole star systems, sometimes even draining energy away from the suns of their enemies. In time, the ships grew so large and so powerful that the killing threatened all populations living in their galaxy with certain extinction. More than a few recognized the threat, and for the first time in generations those who realized the dire future facing them finally began an aggressive coordinated effort to end the fighting._

_A coalition of survivors from all factions quickly formed, and they acted immediately to put a cease fire in place. Those who did not abide by the declaration and throw away their weapons were promptly destroyed; they became the final victims claimed by a war that – in the end – they tragically could not stop fighting. A new society formed, one bonded firmly to the principles of peace and a deep respect for all life wherever it was to be found. In working to rebuild the devastated worlds and populations of their galaxy, these 'Preservers' found a new, powerful motivation for change. They dedicated themselves to reclaiming what was lost; to rebuilding what most thought could not possibly be rebuilt. More centuries passed, and life once again began to flourish, thriving everywhere on worlds that the Preservers' efforts had successfully renewed._

_They expanded their efforts to other galaxies, modeling their rebuilding efforts after planets like Earth and other similar worlds just like it – the 'crown jewels' of the cosmos in their eyes. They soon discovered that the populations in other galaxies had not warred quite as violently as the early generations of Preservers had, and thus it was easy to recruit allies and continue spreading plant, animal, and sentient life wherever they traveled to. Occasionally counterparts from other alternate, mirror universes traveled across the divide between dimensions and an inter-spatial alliance was formed with Preservers from other realms who felt as these Preservers did and shared their common goals. If a younger, yellow sun was dying, they stoked the fire burning within its core back to full intensity, ignoring the larger, cooler red giants where life was less probable and planets less habitable. Sometimes they left behind a small group of people on a world already well suited for life, on other occasions a complete renovation of the planet's ecosystem was first necessary._

_Additional centuries passed and the new generations of Preservers continued their labor of love and their pursuit of seeding life everywhere they explored. They did not know who had originally created the vastness that was the cosmos and all of its amazing alternate realities, but they were now solely dedicated to preserving and improving it… never again would they war with each other and destroy. Violent species were encountered but the Preservers would not pass judgment on them… after all, they had once been hostile themselves but had matured out of it. Occasionally they left signs of their passing as an indication that someone else existed, that someone else cared. How the people in the civilizations who discovered those signs reacted to them was up to each group of life forms – the Preservers showed no favorites and practiced a policy of strict non-interference. If they could help young cultures begin to grow, then they promptly did so… otherwise they moved on to other worlds. There was so much to do, after all, and the universe an extremely BIG place…_

_And then the endless, non-stop project undertaken by the Preservers grew so large that it could not help but stumble, it could not help but CHANGE…

* * *

_

Jean-Luc Picard opened his eyes and realized that he was staring up at the ceiling of the corridor in which the fight with the Sentinel had begun. Judging from the aching pain in his head and his prostrate positioning he quickly realized that his battle with the Sentinel was over. A glance to his right confirmed the theory, as he noticed a disheveled James Kirk lying unconscious against the metallic wall. The edges of his clothing was signed and wisps of white smoke drifted idly in the area surrounding him… it was immediately obvious that Kirk had – as promised – been subjected to another round of electrical discharges as punishment for his actions. A soft groan of pain from Pircard's Starfleet counterpart confirmed his theory.

The massive form of the broad-shouldered Sentinel leaned over and smiled at him, holding out a hand and helping Picard to his feet. The Captain immediately moved over to the inert form of James Kirk and pressed his hand to the side of Kirk's neck to verify that his pulse was strong. "There's no need to be concerned," the Sentinel assured him. "He received a strong dose of electricity for his actions, but that is all." Sighing with notable frustration, the alien shook his head. "I had hoped that you would not be so persistently stubborn," he growled irritably. "I can see now that this extremely undesirable quality in your species is likely to continue."

"Backing down – even against overwhelming odds – is not a quality that elevates members of my species to the rank of ship Captain," Picard duly informed him. His gaze shifted to the electronic headset, which the Sentinel now held carefully in both hands. The circle of lights at its crest was currently blinking bright yellow, but all of them changed immediately to green when the Sentinel placed the device back on his own head.

"The RI-CAD is useless to you," their alien opponent declared proudly. "If it is to show you anything understandable, your mind would first have to be trained and disciplined so that it could withstand everything that this device is capable of showing you. Not just anyone can make use of its wondrous potential… I am the only one on board this vessel with the mental stamina to successful operate it." He cast an iron firm gaze of interest at Picard. "You assisted James Kirk in the attack on my person… I would punish you also, but from the ashen expression on your face I can tell that the RI-CAD has already punished you enough."

"RI-CAD?" The voice was Kirk's, and they noticed that he was fully consciousness and had somehow regained enough strength of will to rise into a sitting position. "What the devil is a RI-CAD?" Kirk asked curiously, his back resting against the corridor wall for added support.

The Sentinel couldn't help but chuckle, and he looked with amusement toward Kusival. The tall, spindly-armed sinister alien Captain stood quietly behind them, and as usual he said nothing. Instead, he merely contented himself to watch as events around him unfolded. "Your curiosity is your strength, Captain Kirk. That is one of the qualities I admire _most_ about your species. Your stubbornness, of course, is one of your least desirable traits." Again the Sentinel laughed, his good mood returning. "RI-CAD is an acronym that stands for 'Remote Interface, Command Access Device'. It allows me to connect the neural activity of my mind directly with Briea's artificial intelligence. I can also access all major command functions built into the automated systems of the ship. In other words, I can literally see what Briea sees and control the ship's primary and secondary activities accordingly."

"You can run this entire, space-based complex with that?" Kirk prompted.

"I can. But do not fool yourself into thinking of trying to capture it again… if I had allowed the RI-CAD to remain interfaced with Captain Picard's mental functions much longer, he almost certainly would have suffered severe brain damage – possibly even a quick death."

"Thank you, then, for removing it," commented Picard with wry amusement.

"What you no doubt saw and heard was a blur of everything this device can monitor all intermingled together into one nonsensical broadcast," continued the Sentinel. "It takes an extremely disciplined mind to focus on specific events, evaluate all that is happening and make informed choices while wearing a RI-CAD. Only the those among my people with the strongest, most disciplined minds can ever hope to successful learn to operate one."

_Nonsensical broadcast?_ Picard's mind was awhirl at the complete inaccuracy of the Sentinel's description. _But I saw and UNDERSTOOD all of that beautiful imagery…_

"If you were in my position, you would try to escape too," Kirk stated honestly. "My people, especially those with my temperament and experience living free do not take well to captivity – or to slavery, for that matter."

"No, I agree that you don't," agreed the Sentinel, his tone sounding a bit wistful. "Unfortunately the same qualities that make your species an ideal one for my purposes are also weaknesses that I cannot control. I believe that we have seen that demonstrated most aptly again today." He gestured to Kusival. "I would appreciate it, Kusival, if you would notify our Guild Council members that it is time to activate my contingency plan."

Picard's mind was still whirling at the memories of the people and places that the RI-CAD had shown him, but the Sentinel's last statement caught his attention. "Contingency plan?" he inquired. "What contingency plan?"

Again that arrogant laugh. It made Picard instinctively long to attack the Sentinel all over again, even if he had to undergo hours of the alien's 'punishment' as penalty for the deed. "My good Captain Picard, you don't think that someone of my stature fails to plan ahead, do you?" he asked rhetorically, harrumphing loudly in a manner that was equally irritating. "I expected resistance from the two of you, but I sincerely _admire_ the human race and wanted desperately to make it part of the Preserver culture. Until now, I have therefore been willing to put up with a certain amount of disobedience." He smiled darkly, an expression so malevolent that it sent a chill down Picard's spine. "Despite warnings to the contrary the two of you have misbehaved on multiple occasions, and I intend to continue escalating the price I exact for continued disobedience." He waved a hand and a new humanoid appeared in front of them, transported to the corridor in an instantaneous flash of emerald green energy.

Picard _stared_ at the newcomer, recognizing him instantly. The intense, mentally unbalanced look to the man's eyes had not changed, nor had the faint scar running across the center of his features.

_Soran_. His mind screamed the name that went with the familiar face. _Doctor Tolian Soran!_

"What…" Picard trailed off, totally caught by surprise.

"Since you and Captain Kirk will not comply with my request to take your place in Preserver culture, I have no choice but to consider _other_ alternative options." The Sentinel continued to smile, but all of his earlier pretense at friendliness and diplomacy was now gone. "As of now both you and Captain Kirk – due primarily to your continued rebelliousness – have been downgraded to a status of sudden death. The human race, from this point forward, will have competitors also fighting for a place among the Preserver culture and for the guarantee of survival that goes with it. If either of you misbehaves again I will not hesitate to halt the training I had planned for the two of you and instead elect this El-Aurian to immediately take your place. Trust me, neither of you wants that to happen… if it does, the human race would be allowed to fade into extinction as certainly as the vast majority of the other species in your galaxy will expire."

"I have enjoyed my own tour and will do whatever you say," Dr. Soran said softly. The arrogant sound of the man's voice maddened Picard and drove him to the brink of his own impulsive act of 'cowboy diplomacy'. But his self discipline held, for the moment, and he instead leaned over and offered his hand to Kirk. He helped the Captain to his feet and they both turned to regard the Sentinel with angry expressions of their own.

"Kusival, you may now escort Captains Kirk and Picard back to their guest quarters," he growled. "Make them _walk_ the entire way, and if either of them gives you any trouble whatsoever during the hike back… well, then do not hesitate to kill them both."


	7. Revisiting The Past

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter VII: Revisiting The Past**

* * *

Alpha Quadrant, Starship _U.S.S. Relativity_, 25th Century

* * *

Shortly after leaving Lt. Jess Ingram in charge of the bridge, Captain Data officially welcomed _Voyager_'s command team aboard ship and then led them into a large conference room where they all seated themselves comfortably and proceeded to visit for more than an hour. Before answering their many questions Data began by specifically pointing out that, as before, only Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway would be allowed to retain memories of their interaction with the _Relativity_ crew. Once again, everyone else aboard Janeway's ship would have their short term memories adjusted to believe that nothing had happened. Captain Data - in turn - would make certain that the entire starship and its crew were returned to the same location and point in time that they had unwillingly departed from.

With the preliminaries finished, the android spent the next twenty minutes giving Captain Janeway and her crew an overview of the undeniable crisis situation that now faced them all... that now faced anyone who had ever lived and breathed in the galaxy known as the Milky Way. Ensign Murry used a large viewscreen mounted on one wall to display sensor data, maps, and other visual documentation illustrating the sensor analysis thus far completed by the crew of the _Relativity_. "Lt. Ingram is still on the bridge," she pointed out, "and working steadily toward tracking down the new location of 'the Nexus'. After all, objects such as that do not simply vanish - they usually show up somewhere else."

Janeway and her command crew were still in a bit of shock at the news, but the Captain didn't hesitate to ask questions. "From our perspective we just left the 24th century as of Stardate 54558," she informed him. "We were recently pulled into a gravitational 'void' and barely got out with our ship intact. We've just spent several days repairing our battle damage, so what made you think that we specifically could help you with this matter? What do _we _possess that other Starfleet Captains do not?"

Captain Data's expression remained calm. "You and your crew are uniquely qualified," he said simply.

The red-haired Captain of _Voyager_ regarded him thoughtfully with sparkling eyes. "_Why?_" she asked.

The android glanced at all of the familiar faces, since a simple access to his internal database provided him with a crew roster that his ancestor had once memorized. He knew all of their names instantly... Kathryn Janeway, Comander Chakotay, Tuvok, Harry Kim, Tom Paris, Seven of Nine, B'Elanna Torres, the holographic Chief Medical Officer. Even the Talaxian Neelix had joined them for their hurried strategy session. Data nodded to Ensign Murry, who promptly switched the viewscreen's display to a new image. "After detailed sensor analysis of one of the attack probes placed in the 28th century, we have come to a startling conclusion."

Seven of Nine stared at the familiar image on the screen with awe. "_Omega_," she gasped.

"That is correct," acknowledged the android Captain. "The power of the _Relativity_'s weapons should easily defeat the defenses of any sentient species living in our galaxy. The artificial, quantum singularity at the heart of our temporal core has been designed specifically to assure that our weapons are superior to virtually any known technology. Yet somehow only our primary, central disruptor cannon was able to breach the probe's deflector shielding. Even then we failed to penetrate its outer hull, leaving me with only one inescapable conclusion as to the source of their energy."

"A probe powered by Omega?" Chakotay glanced at his Captain with great concern. "Have you been able to determine how many molecules we're dealing with?"

Ensign Murry nodded. "There are 920 probes set up in a pre-arranged pattern throughout our galaxy... 230 of them per quadrant. Each of them undoubtedly contains several thousand Omega molecules - a large chain of them stabilized and working together would explain a lot. That has to be what is providing those devices with enough energy to continue flooding all of subspace with their deadly transmission over a period spanning hundreds of years. Omega is the only answer that makes sense to us. Unless we factor in the unknown, absolutely nothing our science has encountered could possibly supply them with that kind of uninterrupted, sustainable power over such a long period of time. Our phaser batteries have a maximum charge of 1.5 kilimegs and they barely lit up the probe's shielding. The alien device that we studied endured _everything_ we fired at it, and continued to transmit its signal without the slightest glitch or hint of an interruption in its outgoing signal."

"Perhaps we should be factoring in the unknown," snapped Torres with frustration. "The _entire_ galaxy has been purged of sentient life? Who could do that?"

"Using Omega as a power source actually makes sense, given the conditions that you have described," Tuvok commented. "The probes are designed to flood the galaxy with a killing wave and sustain their transmission until such time as whoever launched them wants to return and shut them off. In addition to perpetuating the broadcast, they obviously want to deter anyone who managed to survive from successfully attacking and disabling them."

"Agreed," replied Data in acknowledgement. "Were we to have pursued our assault on the probe, we would have been required to expend considerable resources. Additionally, an Omega explosion would destroy the possibility of warp travel for light years in all directions. So their trap is perfect... an ongoing transmission that survivors can disrupt if they wish to, but not without paying a very heavy price."

There was silence in the conference room for a brief time. "What a vicious little trap we have here," Janeway declared finally, shaking her head with disbelief. She wrapped her hands around the mug of coffee in front of her and let the heat from the cup warm her hands. Finally, she took a sip of the hot beverage before continuing, steering the discussion back to B'Elanna's earlier question. "Have you been able to determine who did this... figure out who we're up against?"

Captain Data shook his own head negatively. "Not at present. We're hoping that Lt. Ingram's latest analysis of the Nexus disappearance can provide us with another clue. We've been following a trail of micro-wormhole disturbances for almost a week now - the temporal incursions are automatically detected by our temporal sensor equipment and we track them to their source as each occurrence appears. Thus far our unknown assailant is either hiding outside of our maximum scanning range, or they have cloaking technology that exceeds our ability to detect... even as they move through time."

Tom Paris snorted disdainfully. "So they open a micro-wormhole, tamper with our timeline, and then move to another location? One would think that should leave at least some sort of a trail."

"Are they doing this from the future or from the past?" asked Neelix curiously.

"That is an excellent question," Data decided, nodding in the Talaxian's direction from his position at the head of the table. "Our sensors can scan very deeply into history, but the future is much harder to analyze. Much of it is dependent on the various, often unpredictable focal points that take place at thousands of key focal points in time. The farther into the future we scan, the less accurate are the results returned as the _Relativity_'s main computer rebuilds our timeline map. We do have allies from the 31st century who were working with us on this project, but we have not heard from any of them since the attack on the 28th century."

"It sounds like you've been moving around a lot," Torres observed. "Perhaps they haven't been able to catch up with you yet."

"I had considered that," Captain Data admitted. "However, two other Timeships survived along with us and are waiting at a rendezvous point in the 29th century. Any survivors from the future have had ample opportunity to check in with the other ships and thus far have not."

"That sounds suspiciously like you're at an impasse," noted Chakotay.

"Not exactly," Data responded. "Our enemy began with limited temporal incursions in the 27th and 28th centuries. Small objects would appear and then disappear almost immediately, as though they were sampling time for the proper point to stage their planned attack. It is also probable that they were measuring our ability to maintain our surveillance of them at the same time." He felt a burst of anxiety from his emotion chip at the recent memory, but his positronic brain brushed it calmly aside. "When the attack began, we took a thorough scan of the new timeline before returning to study the probe. Upon arriving in the 28th century, we conducted a second scan and this time the only major change detected by our main computer was the missing stellar object known as the Nexus. Quite probably, whoever we are chasing moved back through time to retrieve it. That is why I ordered the _Relativity_ here, and our next move should be to determine where our opponent traveled to after leaving this vicinity."

"Anyone who has stabilized and harnessed the power of Omega will be a most formidable opponent," decided Seven of Nine, raising her blue eyes to meet the android's own. "A conventional military attack against them will almost certainly fail, and potentially damage large areas of our galaxy in the process."

Data leaned back in his chair and steepled the fingers of his hands together. "Agreed," he said. "That realization is the primary reason I brought you here."

Harry Kim looked slightly uncomfortable, but he had enough experience with staff meetings to know when it was time to speak out. "The Captain has already asked _why us_? But you have drifted around that issue and I for one would really know why you chose us. It can't just be for our experience with the Omega molecule... most of _Voyager_'s crew simply did their usual jobs during that crisis."

"To answer that I first need to tell you a little bit about myself and this vessel's crew," Data said helpfully. "I am a fourth generation Data-Class android with all of the latest upgrades consistent with 29th century technology. My memory capacity has been significantly enhanced to contain the knowledge database accumulated by dozens of my fellow androids. As such I can mentally flip the proverbial 'switch' in my neural net and I'm right back into the original Data's role of 24th century Starfleet Commander. The rest of my crew cannot do that... many of them have no combat experience, limited tactical training, and virtually no high pressure missions under their belt. Certainly a majority of them have never dealt with anything even close to this kind of emergency situation. When I also consider the small size of our crew, due primarily to the level of automation aboard ship, well... let's just say that with the lives of everyone in our galaxy at stake, I wanted to recruit a team of veterans with significant combat experience and detailed scientific skills."

Chakotay was not convinced. "And _Voyager_ was your final decision?" he chuckled lightly as he spoke the words. "You should have picked one of those new Prometheus-Class cruisers."

"As Seven of Nine has already pointed out, even Starfleet's most heavily armed ships would undoubtedly prove useless to us," countered Data. "I have been reviewing your logs, Captain Janeway, and I sincerely believe that your First Officer is underestimating your crew's abilities on this occasion. Your repeated encounters with hostile species, sincere dedication to diplomacy and the Starfleet rule of law, along with six and a half years of life in the Delta Quadrant have left you with skills few other starship crews can match. The Intrepid-Class starship is one of the finest scientific, exploration vessels ever developed, and you are one of the best command teams ever assembled.

"In _all_ of Starfleet history?" Paris chuckled. "If it is heroes that you're after, I would think there are plenty of other starships in history that would serve you better than our crew. Maybe you didn't do enough research, but we didn't exactly get along so well during our first few years in the Delta Quadrant."

Reading the doubtful expressions on their faces, Data noticed that many of them - in addition to Tom Paris - still looked unconvinced. Pausing for a few seconds, he decided to try another approach.

"Consider your recent encounter with the magnetic void in space," the android Captain suggested. "That anomaly trapped you against your will, and other ships already there immediately attacked _Voyager_ and tried to take from you your vital supplies. The people on those other vessels tried to lay down the law of the land as rulers of that void, leaving you with little choice but to fight back in order to survive. But you and your crew refused to give in; you persisted in sticking to your ideals and formed a truce with those in the void who would cooperate. In the end you shared your knowledge and supplies, establishing a bond of sincere trust. Your actions helped those capable of returning that trust to successfully escape with you. Mission logs indicate that you also showed acts of kindness to a species native to that region... a species that everyone else despised. Those are precisely the kind of crisis management experience and diplomacy skills that I need to draw upon in order to successfully resolve this matter," stated Data firmly. "You are alone in the Delta Quadrant and your crew is used to 'winging it', as the saying goes. Therefore I respectfully and formally request _Voyager_'s help in this matter... my crew and I desperately need your help Captain Janeway, and so do the Captains of the other two Timeships."

Janeway laughed lightly. "Somehow Captain, I doubt that ideals and compassion are going to help you resolve this matter, but my crew and I certainly appreciate the compliment."

"I predict that this effort will prove to be a most difficult endeavor," noted Tuvok. "Usually the first step is to define a mission's objectives, and we cannot do that on this occasion until we establish just who we are dealing with and what they are capable of. I suggest that we begin with a three-step approach to this problem," suggested Tuvok. "Once we locate our enemy, we will need to conduct a detailed survey and establish the size and strength of our opponent's forces to determine who we're up against. We will also need to infiltrate them covertly in order to gather intelligence data on their strengths and weaknesses. Finally, we will need to develop several contingency plans and have them ready as backup alternatives in case the enemy discovers our presence before we are ready to confront them."

"Crewman Telfer regularly visits me in Sickbay," the Doctor observed. "So we have visited personally and at length on many occasions. His father once told him to always remember that when facing the unknown, you simply walk as far as you can see. From there, you'll be able to see farther."

Janeway nodded positively toward him in response. "Well said Doctor." She instantly shifted her gaze to Captain Data. "Of course we'll help," she told him. "What good would it do for us to make it all the way back to the Delta Quadrant knowing that time has been tampered with? Everything we've been working to return to currently _ends_ as of the year 2712. I don't like hearing that one bit, and I pledge that _Voyager_'s crew and resources will do whatever we can to help you set matters right."

"Thank you Captain Janeway."

She studied the android curiously. "I've never met you in person before, but you seem to be every bit the pride of Starfleet that our grapevine rumors you to be. If you ever get tired of performing you duties in the 29th century, we could use our own sentient android on board _Voyager_."

Data smiled awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders at her. "Then why don't you try and build me?" he asked curiously. "According to your logs, you are in regular contact with Starfleet using a micro-wormhole of your own. Detailed schematics of my design are on file at the Daystrom Institue, and the original Data, in your time, is currently serving aboard the _Enterprise_."

"_When_ we get back to our own time with this situation resolved, perhaps I will consider the idea further," Janeway decided, her tone of voice confident and determined.

* * *

They were still discussing options and planning strategy forty minutes later, when Jess Ingram suddenly burst into the conference room. She smiled at her Captain with a distinct expression of satisfaction and handed Data an electronic padd. "I've located whoever did this!" she declared excitedly. "Thank God for severe gravimetric distortions!" Her eyes swept back and forth across the sea of unfamiliar faces comprising _Voyager_'s crew, and the Lieutenant quickly felt a bit self conscious. "Sir," she finished, shrouding her earlier exuberance and immediately returning to proper Starfleet protocol.

Data glanced at the padd and nodded. "Good work Lieutenant," he responded. "Please elaborate."

"They had to open a larger tunnel through subspace than they have in the past in order to recover the Nexus," she told them. "That, in conjunction with the severe radiation emitted by the energy ribbon, is the equivalent of walking into a dark room carrying a light bulb. The Nexus has become a beacon that we can easily follow, even after they closed their wormhole." She smiled cheerfully and her eyes sparkled. "They're hiding in the Beta Quadrant, near the Kovar system, approximately mid-18th century Earth time."

Tom Paris groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Trap," he said with undisguised certainty. "It's got to be a trap. If we go there, we'll be as dead as everyone else."

"Not necessarily," Torres objected, studying Data curiously. "So far, no one has come after any of the surviving Timeships. Whoever we're after uses stealth technology to hide their presence, but according to the data Ensign Murry shared with me these Timeships are also invisible while phase shifted outside of normal space/time." She waved her hands casually. "So it makes perfect sense that they might not be able to see you either."

"Why would they _need_ to pursue survivors?" asked Harry Kim. "Anyone who survived would instinctively want to try to restore the normal timeline. So either we attack their probes and destroy ourselves when we de-stabilize and release the Omega molecules, or we follow this Nexus back to its source and do our enemy's work for us. With those probes in place and untouchable by us without disastrous consequences, we have no choice but to find them and solve their problem for them. They expect us to attack them, and then they'll just deal with us when we walk right into their hands."

"They can certainly see _Voyager_," observed Chakotay.

"No they can't," Ingram told him. "When we tractor beamed you out of your own time we extended the _Relativity_'s protective shielding around you. And before he left on his mission, Commander Ducane submitted a proposal that I look into the possibility of permanently docking _Voyager_ on our ventral hull for the duration of this mission. That way, Captain Janeway's command crew can be redeployed to supplement the bridge crews of the three surviving Timeships."

"It's a trap," insisted Paris, his mood noticeably dark. "If we go, we die."

"If we don't go, we know for certain that our galaxy dies," countered Seven of Nine, her mind analyzing the countless possibilities. Turning to Captain Data she raised an eyebrow. "What about the Borg? Has whoever done this managed to overcome the Collective as well?"

Data nodded. "Yes," he admitted. "A small cross section of several dozen drone species have managed to survive, but they are currently leaderless and have no one to assimilate. Additionally, we have heard nothing from the 'Q' Continuum or any of the other highly evolved species who normally keep in contact with us. I recruited another Starfleet Captain from the Alpha Quadrant who is familiar with the Bajoran wormhole aliens. My First Officer left with him in a shuttle to establish whether or not they were affected by the probe transmission."

Kim's expression grew ashen. "If our enemy can handle the 'Q'..."

"The Continuum might simply have chosen to not interfere with this event," pointed out Chakotay calmly. "After all, they always seem to enjoy letting us find our own answers. Even when they do intervene, it's usually to present us with a puzzle of some sort to resolve."

Captain Data continued reviewing Lt. Ingram's telemetry, his eyes fixed intently on the padd as information flowed past its small screen much faster than any human could read. To him the process was actually slow... his speed-reading ability to read and process information was unmatched by virtually any other artificial intelligence ever created. "You have not necessarily located our opponent, Lieutenant." He glanced up at her. "This is simply another unexplained temporal incursion."

Ingram turned to him with a look of astonishment. "Something _unknown_ and _invisible_ is hovering near the Kovar star, something so _massive_ in size that its gravity is tugging at the sun sufficiently enough to register as a planet. If that isn't our unknown assailant, then I don't know what is."

Data considered her statement carefully. "Have you detected any other anomalies in the timeline?"

She folded her arms confidently in front of her. "No sir."

He set the padd down on the large, circular conference table. "Then I agree with your assessment - this is the most likely place to begin our search." He scanned the faces of the _Voyager_ crew. "Suggestions?"

"One step at a time Captain," stated Janeway cautiously. "I agree with Tuvok's earlier assessment. First we have to send at least one Timeship on a surveillance mission, conduct a comprehensive survey of that region and isolate the source of the unknown gravity. I don't know about you, but I'd like to know exactly what we're dealing with before we commit any of our remaining resources to a counterstrike." She smiled confidently. "And if we take the _Relativity_ with _Voyager_ docked below as Commander Ducane suggested, then you will also have the resources of our starship and its sophisticated Astrometrics lab available to you."

A brief, rare silence filled the conference room. "Lt. Ingram," Data said finally. "Complete the docking procedure with _Voyager_ as ordered by the Commander prior to his departure. After that, reinforce our temporal shielding with power from all non-essential systems, bring our conventional cloaking device on-line and lay in a course for the Beta Quadrant - 18th century Earth time. We'll depart as soon as Commander Ducane and Captain Sisko return."

"Yes sir," Ingram acknowledged. "If we use a conventional cloak to supplement our temporal shielding, I find it highly unlikely that _anyone_ will detect us." She turned and hastily exited the conference room.

Chakotay leaned forward with interest. "Most of _Voyager_'s systems will have to be placed on standby, so if you allow us to poke a hole in your hull we could set up a temporary power feed and - during an emergency situation - supply you with as much auxiliary energy as you need directly from our warp core's output."

Data smiled in response. "I was counting on that."

* * *

Alpha Quadrant, Shuttle _Millenium_, 28th Century

* * *

_"First Officer's personal log, Stardate Unknown: As ordered by Captain Data, I have made use of a Scout-Class shuttle and returned Benjamin Sisko to the Bajoran star system. We are currently on course toward the Bajoran wormhole, also known to the natives of this region as the Celestial Temple of the Prophets. I have confirmed that the enemy probes are indeed active during this timeframe, and so far we have detected no signs of surviving, sentient life. Our mission is to utilize Captain Sisko's unique relationship with the wormhole aliens to try and establish contact with them, in the hopes that they can provide some insight into the motives of our unidentified assailant._

* * *

Commander Ducane switched off the personal log recorder and carefully studied the face of the dark-skinned, strong-willed features of the man sitting next to him. He verified that the temporal rift used to travel to Bajor in the proper time setting had closed properly behind them, and then redirected his attention back to the silent passenger. "You haven't said much Captain," he observed.

Sisko sighed heavily. "There really isn't that much to discuss," he decided, sounding more than a little disheartened. "Less than a day ago I was fighting alongside the rest of my Starfleet peers to save the Alpha Quadrant from the Dominion. Then you abduct and inform me that whoever wins is meaningless... that the entire galaxy will eventually die anyway. What can I say at this point that would possibly do any good?"

"It's not your words that will be useful to us," Ducane reminded him. "Your infamous relationship with the Bajoran wormhole aliens could prove most useful to us in coming up with a workable strategy. Your logs indicate that they intervened on behalf of the Federation on several occasions. If they're willing to offer that assistance to us again, my Captain and I would most certainly welcome it."

They had arrived in the year 2712 just two days after the mysterious arrival of the alien probes. Ducane's sensor panel regularly lit up as they traveled into the Bajoran sector, locating and documenting the presence of dozens of space vessels. Every last one of them was floating, uncontrolled, through the vast, empty vacuum of space. There had obviously been lots of traffic moving about when the attack began, but now those vessels floated awkwardly, each of them drifting uncontrolled as they followed the last, general direction their crews had chosen for them. No standard shielding, however powerful, appeared to be capable of resisting the hideous, killing signal transmitted by the alien devices. In a galaxy filled with modern, space-faring species only three days previously, there was now only silence on all subspace frequencies and a sky filled with lifeless, powerless space vessels.

"Part of me didn't believe you," admitted Sisko. "Part of me didn't _want_ to believe you." He could see the sensors too, and it was very difficult to argue with the abundance of evidence surrounding them. Subpace was normally alive with a variety of private, commercial and military transmissions. Today, however, they could hear only the distant, random buzzing noises created by the background radiation emitted by the Alpha Quadrant's various stellar objects.

"How do you do this... _communicating_ thing... that you do with the wormhole aliens?" asked Ducane with interest. "I am afraid that I received only a partial briefing from Captain Data prior to our departure - but he's definitely hoping that they can tell you something useful."

"Most of the time they contact me when they have something to say," responded Sisko. "The Bajorans would have you believe otherwise - they think I'm their direct link to their gods and capable of anything. But I know the truth of the matter and understand a bit more than they do."

"Of course you do, if the Bajorans truly think of the aliens as gods." Ducane smiled wryly. "How often throughout history has a population misinterpreted a highly evolved species as some sort of deity?"

The Deep Space Nine Captain shrugged. "I've had years to think the matter over, and I'm still not certain that they _aren't_ deities," he stated firmly. "After all, what constitutes a god? Bajor's Prophets are undeniably a highly evolved form of life, they scrupulously watch over the Bajorans and - even though they allowed the Cardassians to temporarily occupy the home wolrd - have historically been reliable caretakers of those people for centuries. They may not be the one true God that many claim created the entire universe, but they definitely have stirred a deep, spiritual fire within the Bajorans. Properly balanced with common sense, that spirituality keeps the people of Bajor both ethically and morally balanced. Their citizens live... _lived_..." he almost spat the last word, "on one of the most beautiful planets I've ever been to. To this day it remains one of the jewels in our galaxy, even after the Cardassians did everything in their power to destroy it and plunder its resources. I've made so many friends since first being assigned to this sector that I had intended to retire on Bajor at the conclusion of the Dominion war. Now... well, now all that is dependent on how successful we are on this mission."

Commander Ducane seemed a bit taken aback by the Captain's bold, strong words. "I didn't mean any disrespect sir," he said a bit awkwardly. "It just seemed odd to me that you would think of the wormhole aliens that way, especially when you've seen firsthand that they have vulnerabilities just like any other life form. I read through your logs after Captain Data recruited you, and noticed that these aliens have on occasion been threatened by certain forms of unfiltered subspace radiation along with other similar life forms. It's quite probable that the alien attack on our galaxy has put them out of commission too."

Sisko paused briefly before responding. "The only highly evolved life form I've seen that doesn't appear to have any weaknesses are the 'Q'," he pointed out. "Do you consider _them_ to be gods?"

"No I do not. And that's a _very_ good point," the Commander said with a chuckle. He decelerated the _Millenium_ to sublight velocity and angled them past the Bajoran home world and toward the wormhole. "I'm definitely picking up neutrinos," he confirmed. "So I think the wormhole is still operational and that's a good sign." Glancing again at the 24th century Starfleet Captain his curiosity once again got the better of him. "Do you have to _prepare_ in some way, or do something special in order to contact them? What if you can't?"

Captain Sisko laughed loudly. "If we can't communicate with them in the wormhole, our only other option would be to try and locate the Orb of the Emissary," he decided. "And unfortunately, although I knew where it was back in my century, I have absolutely no idea where it might be in this one. Like I said earlier, Bajor's Prophets usually come to me in some sort of vision. The only way I know of to initiate a conversation from our end is to fly our ship into the wormhole and decelerate to a stop midway through. If they're still around and want to talk to us, then that is how we will reach them." He took a deep breath as he watched Bajor dwindle to a tiny speck behind them. "It's so odd to see this place again without an army of starships surrounding it," he commented idly. "Perhaps that day of peace will come again soon in my own century, but without the certainty of mass death in the 28th century."

"Perhaps," Ducane said reassuringly. "We've still got a lot of resources at our disposal Captain." He checked the helm to confirm their course. "Our course is set... contact with the wormhole's outer event horizion in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

A huge, brightly colored energy fountain unexpectedly boiled up and around them. The Commander had never seen it before and his eyes widened as the colorful, frenzied display of the wormhole surrounded the shuttle and instantly swallowed them up. He studied the twirling patterns of powerful energy inside, watching transfixed as the mesmerizing light show sparkled all around their small shuttle. "Now _there's_ something you don't see every day," said Ducane with obvious admiration. "It's truly awe-inspiring."

"Shut down the impulse engines and decelerate as close to a complete stop as you can," suggested Sisko. "Then we wait and hope."

"Good enough Captain," replied the Commander.

He had opened his mouth and was about to say more, but suddenly their ship ground to a halt even before he shut down the engines. All of the colorful energy bursts surrounding them vanished in a brightly lit burst of highly focused, bright white light...

* * *

**_Author's Note:_** Look for a newly posted image of stabilized, chained Omega molecules in the picture links section included with the "Dark Archon" commentary on my profile page!


	8. Sorrow's Song

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter VIII: Sorrow's Song**

* * *

Alpha Quadrant, Shuttle _Millenium_, 28th Century

* * *

_As the bright, familiar white light of the Bajoran Celestial Temple surrounded them, Benjamin Sisko recognized immediately where he was. Commander Ducane, on the other hand, was stunned by the sudden disappearance of the shuttle and he glanced around awkwardly. He waved both hands with surprise, glancing down at his feet in an attempt to determine why he was still standing upright even though there was no obvious floor beneath them. Sisko smiled with mild amusement at the Commander's obvious discomfort. He still felt a brief, mild burst of nausea himself upon entering, even though he had visited the aliens who dwelled inside the wormhole on many occasions. For Ducane, however, the first time effects had much more of an impact._

_"The Sisko remains corporeal, but somehow different on this occasion. It puzzles us."_

_The petite, familiar form of the dark-haired Sarah materialized in front of him after speaking the words. "Yes," he acknowledged with a smile, realizing that it had been some time since he spoke with his birth mother. Since releasing her from the Orb of the Emissary on the planet Tyree, she had become the sole representative who now regularly spoke to him in the visions he occasionally received. Prior to that, the Prophets had communicated with him in a non-sensical manner, using a chaotic mish mash of people and images from his memories. "On this occasion I entered the Temple from my world's 28th century instead of from my rightful place in the 24th," he told her. "That is the difference. Have your people begun to understand linear time more clearly?"_

_Usually the response was immediate, but this time she paused. "Has the Sisko begun to understand better that his life is not linear?" Sarah countered. She continued walking toward him until she was only a few feet away and then paused._

_"There was a war taking place... _is_ a war..." Ben stopped, unsure of how to best present his ideas to his mother. "I continue fighting to wage war against the enemies of Bajor and of my people... an opponent called the Dominion."_

_"You also battle the pah-wraiths," she pointed out. "And you do not disappoint us Benjamin. But something on this occasion _is_ indeed different... never before when you visited us have we heard such a mournful song."_

_Ducane's expression was ashen as he watched the interplay without comprehending, and even Captain Sisko found himself somewhat puzzled by her words. The Commander maintained his self discipline well, watching curiously as the interchange between Captain and wormhole alien continued._

_"Song?" Sisko raised an eyebrow, his one word response designed to coax her into revealing more to him. Sometimes his conversations with the Prophets yielded very useful results._

_"You are no longer of Bajor," Sarah whispered, tears running down her cheeks. "All the Orbs have gone dark, and we can hear the song of sorrow being sung even here in the Temple. Its melody hurts us and makes us cry... this is not how things are meant to be."_

_"No it most definitely is _not_ how things are meant to be," snapped Sisko angrily. "The 'song' you hear has destroyed all life on Bajor and also the life on many other worlds just like it. Someone who is also _not_ linear has tampered with what is _supposed_ to be."_

_"You have come here looking for help?"_

_"We have come here for _your _help," Sisko acknowledged firmly._

_"Yes..." Commander Ducane's normally confident voice was somewhat hesitant as he studied the strange, glowing female in front of them. "If it helps you to know, I can be of great help to Captain Sisko, but in return I was hoping that his link with you might allow you to provide us with some information about the enemy we face."_

_"What kind of information?" Sarah studied Ducane's face curiously and took a small step towards the newcomer. At her unexpected approach, the Commander fought back feelings of fear as well as the ongoing disorientation. "This one is new..." commented Sarah with a smile. "...A newcomer seeks to help the Sisko?"_

_"Commander Ducane _will_ help me, but in order to do so we both need _your_ help," the Captain said reassuringly. "Someone, like yourselves, who is also non-linear threatens Bajor and all of the surrounding worlds in this galaxy... we need to know who it is so we can devise a means to stop them."_

_Tears continued to run down Sarah's face and she knelt in front of them. The bright white background surrounding her could not hide the bright aura surrounding her body. "We do not know who interferes with that which is Bajor," she admitted, her voice soft. "The song is also a danger to us - we dare not leave the Temple while it is sung and that limits our ability to assist." _

_Sisko found himself concerned - usually the Prophets answered him directly and confidently, but not on this occasion. He decided to try a different approach. "Do you know anything about what has happened?" he asked with grim determination. "Can you tell us anything about who did this?"_

_"No," was her curt, direct reply. Sarah slowly stood up and carefully studied the lines on Ducane's face briefly before returning her gaze to Sisko. "But we understand that you must not merely stop the song; you must additionally restore that which is Bajor so there is no need for the song to play."_

_"Agreed," said Ducane with a nod, slightly surprised that he too was beginning to understand the unusual exchange of words between them. "Yes! That's _exactly_ right! But how do we do that? Who plays the song? If we can determine who is responsible then my people and I _can_ stop them!"_

_Sarah hesitated, obviously confused, and paused briefly before answering. It was obvious to the Captain that communication between the aliens and the humans was still somewhat confusing, even though the Prophets understood how to interact with humans much better than they had during Sisko's first visit. "We do not know," she said finally, obviously disappointed. "We know there are several possible paths leading back to Bajor... but we do not know where to find them. You must discover them for yourselves."_

_Ducane was about to say more, but Sisko held up a cautioning hand to silence him._

_"What can you tell us?" the Captain persisted. "_How_ do we restore for you that which is Bajor?"_

_Sarah's expression brightened noticeably at his words and the usual tone of fierce determination so obvious in his voice. "You have already taken the first step," she informed him. "You have recognized that your life is not linear... that you are of Bajor. You must still face the tasks that lay ahead of you plus one more in addition. This new task, however, you must face _first_." Her brow creased as she studied his reaction to her words. "You must face it first, even if it is not linear."_

_Sisko almost laughed, but the extreme danger they were now faced with had stifled his normally solid sense of humor. "How do I do that?" Sisko asked her. "What new task must I face?"_

_"Abandon your role of Emissary until that which is Bajor has returned," suggested Sarah. "All that was meant to be will again be if you honorably fulfill the assignments given to you. You may assist the newcomer and his allies, but it is they who must fight and win the inevitable confrontation. Do not allow your own actions to interfere with their plans."_

_Beside Sisko, Commander Ducane felt his anxiety rising. "I will be happy to fight the battle," he said truthfully. "But how can I do so if I don't even know who opposes me?"_

_"The newcomer is also corporeal and not linear," responded Sarah. "Both of you must walk the path you were meant to walk. Both of you must walk the path that is meant to be your destiny."_

_Ducane's expression grew even more frustrated and he turned toward Sisko with disappointment. "This isn't working," he said regretfully. "She doesn't understand us, Ben."_

_The Captain waited, but both he and Ducane remained standing upright in the Temple, ensconced in the brilliant white light that warded what lurked in the background. Although he had visited on many occasions, Sisko had never been allowed past the gateway into the strange world within the wormhole. Like Ducane, he was also out of ideas and so he simply waited patiently. If the Prophets had nothing further to say to them, then he fully expected that they would return him and the Commander to the shuttle. Interaction with humanoids was as troubling and difficult for the timeless aliens as it was for those who visited them._

_As Sisko stood there, Sarah reached out with both hands and clasped his face between them. "You must fulfill the role that you were meant to play," she told him firmly. Sisko stood there, startled by the unexpected warmth from her hands, and a feeling of peace and contentment seemed to resonate out from her hands and through his consciousness. "Be ready," his mother said sternly, her piercing gaze penetrating deep into his. "Watch carefully for the correct path Benjamin, and always remember... there is a time for departure, even when there's no certain place to go."_

Just like that they were sitting back in their chairs in the shuttle's cockpit, bright bursts of energy continuing to fill the windows in front of them as they emerged from the wormhole into the Gamma Quadrant. Ducane let the shuttle fly straight ahead for a moment without a steady course and turned to Sisko with a questioning glance. "That's _all?_" he asked with dismay. "_Watch carefully for the correct path?_ _There is a time for departure_...?" He shook his head and took a deep breath. "There _has_ to be more they can tell us than that!"

Sisko pondered Sarah's final words to them and agreed with Ducane's assessment. "Try again," he suggested. "Turn us around and fly back through the wormhole."

Ducane complied and - moments later - they had passed through without incident and emerged back into the Alpha Quadrant. This time, the aliens living inside had chosen not to speak with them.

"I don't understand," the Commander growled irritably. "The fate of the _entire_ galaxy is hanging on what we do next and your allies in this 'Celestial Temple' are giving us _riddles_ instead of help."

"They _always_ communicate that way," Sisko responded with a soft chuckle. "Their existence does not span the normal timeline with the rest of us. When you consider how vastly different a life form they are, it's amazing to me that they can communicate anything to us at all. It has always been my observation that we have the easy part... they are the ones bending over backwards and making the largest effort on the rare occasions when we interact."

"I guess my expectations were simply too high," admitted Ducane. "After reading through your logs, it seemed obvious to me that you shared a very special relationship with these aliens. I was sincerely hoping that they would be able to provide us with something tactically useful in order to help us successfully tackle the dangers facing us. I suppose, in hindsight, I shouldn't have realistically expected them to have _all_ the answers. Still, they could have said something better than 'watch carefully for the proper path...'"

Sisko chuckled with amusement as he listened to the Commander. "They may not be _our_ Prophets, but they are still _Bajor_'s Prophets," he pointed out. "And I, for one, am accustomed to having someone else do my homework for me." He continued to mentally review the recent encounter thoroughly while watching Bajor through the windows. He spotted it instantly in the distance, a twinkling, bright light that grew rapidly larger as the shuttle closed the distance between them swiftly at impulse velocity. "We could try again," he said casually.

"No, I don't think so," Ducane decided, studying the sensor console carefully. "My latest scan confirms that 'song' of theirs is still playing, and I have to admit that being in this time really makes me nervous. This is only a shuttle, after all, and if our temporal shielding should fail while we're vulnerable to the effects of those probes..."

"...then we _also_ will not be of Bajor," Sisko finished for him.

"Exactly," the Commander nodded. "I'm setting a return course to rendezvous with the _Relativity_." He sighed with disappointment and then smiled at Sisko. "At least you're off the hook. Once we're back aboard the Timeship I can erase your short-term memory and return you to your timeframe. It doesn't appear as though there is anything more that you can do for us here."

Captain Sisko shook his head. "When I first arrived, you mentioned that repeated trips through your temporal transporter can be dangerous to a humanoid's physical and mental health. So if you don't mind, I'd like to stick around for awhile and 'assist the newcomer'." He shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled. "That way, if you _do_ end up needing my assistance again I won't have to make a repeat trip through time."

"Whatever you want, Captain," decided Ducane. "For obvious reasons, I would like to limit your contact with Starfleet officers from other timeframes, but given the circumstances we can definitely use your help." Ducane continued busily setting the helm controls for a course that would take them back to the _Relativity_. In front of them, a brightly blue misted temporal rift began opening and the small shuttle roared rapidly toward it.

"Think of it this way," suggested Sisko. "Sarah specifically told me that I should assist you on this matter. And if you're _not_ going to listen to the advice of the Prophets, then why in the world did you consult them in the first place?"

* * *

Beta Quadrant, Aboard the _Dokimasia_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

Picard had been sitting quietly for almost a half hour in the seven-walled conference room where he had first met James Kirk. His fellow Captain, by contrast, had selected several manuals from the Sentinel's library and was busy studying the technical specifications and overall layout of the _Dokimasia_. "It's hard to believe, but this ship is even _larger_ than it looks on the tour," Kirk commented, trying unsuccessfully to catch and focus Picard's attention.

Jean-Luc glanced a bit irritably at Kirk and then quickly regained his composure. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I hadn't expected to see Soran again, that's all. He's an evil, twisted murderer and I had hoped that we would stop his treacherous plot before it could kill the people of Veridian III."

"_But you_ did _stop Soran, Captain Picard_." Briea's soft voice drifted softly around him, seeming to come from all directions at once. "_When the original Captains Picard and Kirk left the Nexus and returned to the planet, they were successful in defeating his plans. The specific details are stored in my database if you want to review them further_."

"Since I never met the man, I'll take your word for it," decided Kirk. He continued flipping curiously through the pages of the oversized volumes setting on his lap.

"If we did indeed stop him, then _how_ did Soran end up in the Nexus?" demanded Picard using a much louder tone than he usually did. "The only way he could have entered was if he succeeded in his plan to destroy the Veridian star. If he truly completed that mission, then the people would all have died."

"_They did die... the_ first _time_," said Briea informatively. "_The Nexus _is_ indeed a gateway Jean-Luc - but its access points are not limited to different moments in time, but also lead to alternate realities and timelines. After all, how do you explain your own presence in the Nexus along with Soran? You were caught up in it with him because you failed to stop him the _first_ time. He was able to defeat you just long enough to launch his missile at the star_." She paused, and Picard sighed heavily as he began to comprehend just what the artificially intelligent computer was driving at.

"That does make sense," he admitted.

"_As an artificial intelligence, I am programmed to simulate but cannot truly comprehend an emotional state of mind_," continued Briea. "_But I have to conclude that your determination to stop Tolian Soran and save all those people must be the decisive factor which allowed you to resist the pleasurable temptations designed into the Nexus. Soran cannot resist its lure... he obeys the dictates of the Sentinel as you do, but only in exchange for being allowed to return there in his off-duty hours_."

Kirk glanced up from the large manual he was reading and nodded. "He has allowed himself to become addicted to its effects. I must admit... that _thing_ is well constructed. It almost had me caught up in its spell too until Captain Picard splashed the proverbial cold water of reality on my face."

"That's one of the reasons I despise time travel," said Picard wryly. "Alternate timelines are a tricky thing, especially if you change something involving a major focal point. Something happening or not happening can affect millions - even billions - of lives."

"_There is more to tell Jean-Luc_." Picard glanced up sharply at the continued use of his first name, but he was too fatigued to argue the matter further with Briea so he simply let her continue. "_The Nexus is very well constructed indeed... its intricately programmed software prevented you from introducing a major temporal anomaly into your new reality_."

Even Kirk was intrigued by her statement. "Oh?" he asked. "What would have been the problem?"

Briea laughed lightly. "_In his determination to return to the planet and carry out his plan to stop Dr. Soran, Captain Picard momentarily _forgot_ that he was returning _to a timeframe in which he already existed!_ If the Nexus had not been properly programmed to reintegrate the Nexus Jean-Luc Picard with the Picard on the surface of Veridian III, you Captain Kirk would have been working with TWO Captain Picards! I'm sure that would have created an interesting debate among the crew of the _Enterprise-D_ as to just which Captain was their real one._"

"I hadn't thought of that." Picard sat quietly for a moment, evaluating Briea's new information.

"One Picard is _more_ than enough," Kirk decided, returning his attention to the books.

"The feeling, sir, is definitely mutual," Picard countered, a faint smile appearing on his face as Briea's laughter filled the room. "You may not be able to feel human emotion Brieas, but you do indeed simulate them well."

"_That is part of my software, yes_."

"At least you got him talking again," said Kirk without glancing up. "He's been sitting over there long enough now... brooding about things he can't change."

"I am _not_ brooding," denied Picard irritably. "For your information I am reviewing the images that I saw while connected to that RI-CAD device. The experience was very memorable and I simply wanted to think about the things I saw more closely before they begin to fade."

"Did you see anything that can get us out of this mess?"

Picard turned his head toward Kirk, who was seated in one of the chairs in a very relaxed manner and continuing his review of the ship specifications. "I might have... but everything happened so quickly it's difficult for me to interpret specifics that will help us. Perhaps if I could connect to it again..."

"_That would not be advisable_," cautioned Briea. "_Your mind has limited capacity, and without the proper training prolonged contact with my consciousness would be extremely dangerous for you. My thought processes are considerably faster than your own, and the resources of the _Dokimasia _that the device accesses are considerable. The strain on your mind while linked is tremendous, Jean-Luc_."

"Why do _you_ get to call me Jean-Luc?" Picard asked pridefully. "I'm used to being called Captain."

"_You cannot go back to the life you knew_," pointed out Briea. "_There is already a Captain Picard living that lifetime. You are a copy replicated specifically to assist the Sentinel. Captain Kirk has accepted the situation, so why can't you?_"

"Perhaps I would accept the situation more easily if you called him James."

Again Briea laughed with amusement. "_Point taken Captain_," she told him. "_It is also interesting that your mind was able to process so much information while linked to me via the RI-CAD. The Sentinel incorrectly assumed that your mind would be unable to process the data_."

"I was once mentally linked with a Vulcan by what they call a mind meld," Picard informed her. "The experience provided me with a lasting mental discipline... one that most humanoids lack."

Kirk abruptly shook his head, puzzled. "You would think that someone with all of the Sentinel's technology would have moved beyond the printed volume by now," he observed. "Reading is so much easier on my eyes when I use the right font size on a properly lit computer display."

"_Like you James, the Sentinel has a fondness for antiques_," noted Briea. "_His technology and other abilities are the only things that separate him from the two of you. That's why he respects you both so much... that's why he so badly wants to retain your cooperation_."

"How can he just kill an entire galaxy filled with living beings?" demanded Picard. "What gives him the right to do that? For that matter what gives him the right to copy living beings without their permission... to force us to serve at his whims?"

"_He is the Sentinel_," Briea responded. "_For him, that is all the reason he needs_."

Kirk closed the large, heavy bound volume he was holding with a loud thump. "What other information can you show us?" he wondered. "It is my understanding that we are not prisoners in the normal sense of the word... that we are allowed to go anywhere on this ship and study anything we want. The Sentinel has also repeatedly encouraged us to speak with you... what are the limits on what we can study?"

The light, feminine voice chuckled softly with unconcealed amusement. "_I am authorized to show you anything that you two gentlemen would like to see._"

"What if we want to know the tactical weaknesses of the _Dokimasia_ or the personal vulnerabilities of the Sentinel?" asked Picard with a wry grin. "Would you show us those?"

"_Of course I will do my best to provide any and all information that you ask for_," stated Briea flatly. Picard and Kirk exchanged a knowing glance that the sentient computer was able to recognize almost instantly. "_However,_" Briea continued, _"I must point out to you that if you try and take advantage of that knowledge - if you try to use it in any way against this vessel or its crew - I am authorized at my discretion to terminate you immediately.._."

"...in which case the Sentinel would simply replicate additional copies of us."

"_You begin to catch on to how things work aboard the _Dokimasia_ Captain Kirk_," Briea decided. "_The Sentinel always maintains the option to make additional copies of humans, yes. But I feel it important to point out to you both that he has selected you two specifically because he recognizes something he likes. But please understand - that does not grant you permanent VIP status on board this ship, and eventually the Sentinel expects you to cooperate. If you don't, he will simply move on to Dr. Soran or one of the other species documented in the Nexus probes. I have seen it happen many times...I have made many friends who lived here for a time but who were eventually discarded because they refused to accept the reality of the situation. You will serve this ship and its mission or you will be replaced_."

There was a prolonged silence as Kirk and Picard silently thought about her comments. After a time, Picard rose to his feet and walked over to a wall receptacle where he replicated himself a cup of hot tea. When asked if he wanted anything, Kirk simply shook his head without saying anything and continued to mentally evaluate their options. "_Kobiyashi Maru_..." he mumbled, his voice nearly inaudible.

"What was that?" asked Captain Picard curiously. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Kirk decided instantly. "Unfortunately, we're facing an all too familiar situation." He lifted the set of books off of his lap and placed them on the couch next to the easy chairs. "All right Briea," he decided, glancing first to the walls and then to the smooth ceiling above them. He couldn't see any obvious sensors or speakers in place... just how the computer managed to speak to them so easily and audibly in an almost completely enclosed metal room was still a mystery. "Do you have ship's logs, personal logs, or something similar that we could review regarding this vessel's history and its previous missions?"

"_Of course I do Captain. And those records are much more detailed than the simple audio and visual feeds that you're used to. My database contains millions of catalogued, holographic recordings of all major activity associated with the_ Dokimasia _and its crew_."

Kirk stroked his chin thoughtfully with the tips of the fingers on his right hand. "Can you show us all personal or official records that document the Sentinel's reasoning behind his decision to destroy the Milky Way galaxy?"

"_The Sentinel did not_ choose _to destroy the Milky Way_," noted Briea. "_He supported a political position that was approved by his superior and then received the assignment. Like the two of you, he answers to a higher link in a hierarchical chain of command_."

"Ahhh," the Captain said with interest. "So the Sentinel isn't officially the big dog in all of this."

Captain Picard lowered the cup of tea he was sipping. "That's what _I _would like to see." He noted Kirk nodding in agreement. "Do you have a record of the Sentinel receiving his assignment to our galaxy?"

"_I do_."

"Then show it to us please."

Almost instantly the lounge area they were seated in vanished entirely, replaced almost immediately by a huge auditorium chamber complete with row upon row of balconies - the entire arena could no doubt comfortably seat thousands of people. At various points between the multiple rows of chairs were walkways leading toward a central stage with a large podium. They were in an enclosed room, with beautifully cast metallic support pillars spiraling up toward the ceiling to support the massive roof above them. Picard and Kirk were still seated in their own familiar, recognizable lounge chairs, but the rest of the room that they had been sitting in aboard the _Dokimasia_ appeared to have disappeared entirely. It was an astonishing display of holography, easily matching - and probably surpassing - the state-of-the-art technology built into 24th century era Starfleet vessels.

"_This_ is a recording?" Kirk gasped with surprise. "If so, it's a pretty damned good one."

Next to him Picard smiled. "Obviously this room contains some sort of holographic matrix, even though the walls - for the most part - appear to be smooth."

Both of them watched from the front row of the auditorium, their chairs having replaced a line of empty seats directly to the left of the stage area. Two men dressed similarly to the Sentinel stood behind the podium, each wearing soft gray jackets and dark black slacks. Both of them were obviously much older; one of the men had gray hair while the other's remained dark black. In front of the podium and at the edge of the stage stood the familiar form of the Sentinel, the alien they had come to know. The only major difference between him and the other two was the RI-CAD device that he always wore on his head. He stood rigidly in front of them with his head bowed respectfully, a formality that seemed impossibly out of place given the non-stop, arrogant state of mind the two Captains had regularly witnessed him display during the time that they had known him.

"_I am here Magistrate, in response to your summons as ordered_," the Sentinel said finally, raising his eyes toward the podium.

The elderly dark-haired alien bowed his own head in response. "_We are about to make history_," the Magistrate responded, his voice booming loudly throughout the spacious room, despite the obvious lack of electronics equipment. Somehow their conversation was amplified anyway and projected instantly to all areas within the huge chamber. "_The Council leaders have made it clear that we must provide them with a final decision by tomorrow morning. This meeting has been called to order so that I can accept and evaluate input from my two most trusted advisors before rendering that verdict_."

The Sentinel shrugged and smiled, and it was obvious to the two observing Starfleet Captains that his smug confidence was still present, although - at least during this time - properly suppressed. "_Esteemed Magistrate, you are no doubt already aware of how my friend and colleague the Chaplain feels. He has made it very clear to us over the years that he and his supporting factions favor compassion, respect and tolerance toward all of the various life forms found within the boundaries of our vast universe_."

The gray-haired alien, standing calmly with his arms folded in front of him to the right of the Magistrate, smiled thinly. "_That has always been our strong belief and I continue to support it_," he acknowledged.

"_And yet our resources are continually stretched thinner with each passing day_," countered the Sentinel. "_There are limitless galaxies spanning our universe - most of which contain life that could be thriving and prospering_... if only they had our help. _The vastness that is our cosmos is so great that I predict we will undoubtedly fail in the long term unless the proper reforms - those my Guild leaders have proposed to our policy - are adopted as soon as possible. Our current achievements resulting from our efforts at intergalactic construction and the seeding of life are both many and impressive, but they pale in comparison to what could be if only my faction's new way of thinking is accepted_."

The Chaplain ran a hand through his thinning, gray hair and shook his head in complete disagreement. "_We have a well-defined_ volunteer _policy in place when recruiting new labor to help us meet our objectives_," he reminded them. "_It takes time to make the proper first contact with peaceful cultures, teach them who and what we are, and recruit those who are willing to join our cause. You cannot simply force change on a sentient individual without destroying their will or their pursuit of a peaceful life_..."

"_Oh yes we can_," the Sentinel said with a dark chuckle. "_I have already done so with numerous, carefully chosen individuals. When you consider all that our culture has done for so many other living beings over the years, sacrificing one galaxy so that we can mine skilled labor from its past is the only possible answer. With the limitless supply of fresh recruits that this method will provide us, we can accomplish exponentially more than we could ever hope for under the current system. The Laws we currently live by are old, outdated, and need to be scrapped. I represent a new way of thinking, a completely different way of life. If my faction's reforms are implemented then hundreds of galaxies will reap the rewards of our efforts. But think carefully Magistrate, because if you decide against us, then we shall continue plodding forward, contenting ourselves with the few dozen galaxies that currently benefit from the assistance we provide_."

The Magistrate sat quietly for a few moments and then turned to the Chaplain standing to his right. "_What say you Chaplain?_" he asked curiously. "_The Sentinel's argument is strong, and his preliminary experiments look most promising. What say you in opposition to the proposed changes?_"

"_In order to achieve what the Sentinel wants to achieve, even a prototype project will completely destroy the thriving sentient life of at least one galaxy_," the Chaplain responded without the slightest bit of hesitation. "_Anyone who thoroughly reviews our history in the precise manner that I have will inevitably discover that destroying and killing sentient people on multiple worlds is_ exactly _the kind of behavior that brought our species - and many others - to the brink of extinction. It is _the_ specific reason our ancestors chose to abandon their violent ways and become Preservers in the first place_." He left his place at the Magistrate's right and walked first across the stage and then down its stairs toward the spot where the Sentinel stood firmly waiting. Pausing in front of the other he continued his argument. "_I speak to you representing a broad spectrum of Guilds filled with conservative, traditional life forms willing to exercise patience and maintain a strong dedication in pursuit of the preservation of life. We are also true believers in the concept of an Intelligent Designer. We have examined the universe in all its vastness and found it most difficult to believe that so much could be created with physical laws of nature so well defined without one. The Sentinel, on the other hand, is driven solely by ambition and seeks only to maximize the size and number of Preserver accomplishments. I sincerely believe that if we abandon our core beliefs... our core principles... then we will truly be lost and only bad things can happen to us_."

The Sentinel looked at his friend with an expression of defiance. "_Your proposal for the status quo would severely limit us and force our teams to scale back their efforts_... _we cannot continue to expand our influence on worlds that need our help without first building new ships and recruiting new crews to run them efficiently_."

In response, the Chaplain paused briefly while smiling darkly at his associate. "_How can you _ever_ hope to save all of the life in all of those galaxies?_" he asked curiously. "_We have even begun reaching out to others in alternate realities, making what is already infinite even more so_." He snorted with dismay. "_All we need is time and patience to achieve what you propose to achieve in an honorably manner... sooner or later as our influence spreads to more and more galaxies we will reach out to more and more people - to many more potential recruits. As we continue to assist in the development and evolution of life forms they will continue to offer assistance in return. Conscripting them by force into our service is _not_ the correct answer, and taking such action means that we will abandon strict moral and ethical codes used to properly govern ourselves for centuries._"

"_And in the meantime, many of those beyond our reach _war_ with each other. Many of them are oppressed by others more technologically advanced than they are, or simply killed off by nature's folly before we can reach them in time to alter adverse living conditions. No... what we _need _to do, my friends, is to find faster and better ways of reaching out to these people in order to preserve as much as possible. We have the _right_ to do this... we _must_ do this_..."

"_And unless you happen to be one of the sentient beings living after the termination timeframe in the galaxy chosen, then what you propose does sound like a most reasonable plan_," acknowledged the Chaplain. "_So long as you're not one of the billions scheduled to die, your idea will probably work_." He folded the fingers of both hands together in quiet reflection. "_Would you make the same decision, Sentinel, if you or a member of your family lived in that galaxy? And what about the sentient beings you plan to_ 'mine' _from its past?_" he asked curiously. "_Or even worse, the unlimited supply of duplicate copies of each individual that you would make? If we adopt these proposed reforms then concepts of individual rights, compassion toward all other living things, and the other traditional customs we currently hold dear would soon be values that are alien to us. Some must be sacrificed or unwillingly enlisted to our cause in order to serve the greater good, we would tell ourselves in order to keep our consciences silenced_." The Chaplain's face reddened with sudden, furious rage. "_I tell you here and now that the greater good is forever _lost_ to us if we do this_."

"_This would be a_ prototype _project_," emphasized the Magistrate. "_We would pick a galaxy that has thrived for many centuries, one with many cultures that have directly benefited greatly from our efforts and learned to live in peace. The point in history where we would terminate them would be a natural one - after centuries of uninterrupted, primarily peaceful life but at a crucial focal point where they begin policing their time and evolving toward a higher plane of existence much like our own. The worlds of many galaxies are so much richer and more prosperous due directly to our assistance... I truly don't see how asking some of them to provide us with extra labor so that other worlds can also benefit from our intervention would be asking too much of them_." He chuckled lightly, although it was clear from his tone of voice that he considered the matter a most serious one. "_Those living prior to the termination point will never even know that anything has happened... they will still have lived full lives and pass on as living beings eventually do without ever seeing even a hint of interference from us_."

"_Others will be sacrificed and that is wrong_," the Chaplain warned them, his dark-skinned face grim. "_Don't do this Magistrate. _Please_ don't_..."

"_The Council Leaders and Guild Chiefs want a decision by morning_," the Magistrate informed the two men standing before them. "_And I intend to give them my highest recommendation that the Sentinel's Guild receive approval to proceed with their new project. The prototype galaxy will be selected and purged of life as proposed and, once the project has been completed, its results carefully evaluated in order to determine if additional galaxies are to be similarly mined for additional recruits._" He studied the Chaplain's expression of deep concern carefully, but never wavered for an instant in issuing his final decision. "_If this project is deemed a success then it will allow our efforts to expand to other galaxies thousands of years faster than they otherwise could have. I think that even you, Chaplain, will agree that the benefits that could be realized from this plan are _worth_ a little risk_."

The Sentinel grinned with obvious satisfaction at receiving the Magistrate's approval. "_The change that we bring to the universe will proceed much more quickly now Chaplain_," he promised. "_You and I will be able to see firsthand the colossal expansion of our efforts and the benefits realized by trillions upon trillions of life forms as a direct result of today's decision. And we shall see it before the end of our own lifetimes, my friend_."

"_We will also see the consequences as well_," noted the Chaplain with deep regret...

...the holographic display surrounding Kirk and Picard suddenly vanished, and they found themselves back in the lounge area with all of its familiar walls and sparse furnishings instantly restored. Both of them sat quietly for a moment, digesting all of the new information revealed at the Magistrate's final hearing. It had been a brief argument between the senior leaders in the Preserver culture, and at the conclusion of that meeting the fate of an entire galaxy had been decided.

"That was truly... _sad_ to see happening," muttered Kirk, his growing anger barely contained. "In the space of a few minutes, the Preservers murdered their own culture in addition to our societies. They're nothing but a bunch of killers now, playing God as they decide who lives and who dies in their new order of the way things should be."

"_It does, at first glance, appear to be a cold and callous decision_," Briea admitted, her voice sounding noticeably rattled. "_But you have absolutely no idea just how much more quickly the Preservers will be able to reach out to others now. You don't understand how many galaxies will have dozens upon dozens of species saved because we managed to get to them in time. I could show you more from_..."

Picard leaned back in his seat and sighed heavily. "Actually, you've shown us more than enough for now Briea," he decided. "I don't know about Captain Kirk, but I have a raging migraine and the urge to do something extremely violent to the Sentinel."

"_I will dispense the appropriate medication to the wall replicator so that you feel better Captain. And I would like to sincerely apologize for what has happened to your people, too. Unfortunately this does not just involve the Sentinel, but all of the Preserver culture. We are all bound by its Laws and dedicated to carrying out the directives issued in order to achieve our objectives_."

"This Magistrate and the government he leads made a conscious _choice_," observed Kirk. "It would have been most courteous if he were to offer our cultures that same right to choose. There are people in our galaxy that would have rallied to the Preserver cause and joined you willingly. But you did not ask first and allow us to make our own decision. My people consider that not only impolite, but an act of war."

"_Oh dear, neither of you is going to behave are you? The Sentinel is going to have to purge you two from his database, just like so many of the others_."

"We shall see," Picard decided. "As has been pointed out, we cannot return to lives that belong to the original Captain Picard and Captain Kirk. If we establish a toehold for humanity here on the _Dokimasia_ then we might be able to eventually reach allies like the Chaplain and others who believe as we do."

Kirk whirled instantly to face the other Captain. "You're not actually agreeing to work on this ship?" he asked with obvious disbelief.

"For the moment, I don't see a whole lot of other alternatives," pointed out Picard. "From what I've heard, our galaxy has already been attacked. Finding a way to undo what has been done will obviously be difficult - if not impossible. Therefore I think we should make certain that any new 'factions' recruited to the Preserver cause are people who think like this Chaplain. He and those who believe as we do are the only ones who can help us now, but we have to stay alive long enough to reach them."

"_If you help us, you will learn firsthand how much we do... how much assistance we provide to those in need_," Briea promised.

"Unfortunately, your arrival had too much of an impact on us," Kirk told her in reply. "I don't know about Captain Picard, but I really don't give a damn about other cultures in other galaxies right now. I simply want to find a way to restore my own people's future, along with the futures of all other living beings in our Milky Way. We want to live too, you see, or I'm afraid your efforts will forever be tainted... even if people like the Sentinel refuse to recognize them as such."

The two Captains sat and visited for quite some time, cautiously planning their next move.


	9. Plan Of Attack

_**Author's Notes: **_At this point in the story, I don't believe things would be complete without a picture of the _Dokimasia_. With that in mind I used my limited computer skills to create a rough drawing that is deliberately designed to look a bit fuzzy. Our Starfleet friends have no choice but to make use of passive sensors in this chapter, after all. Normal, outgoing sensor emissions are shut down to avoid giving away a ship's presence and - as explained better in the chapter - the crew is limited to using disturbances in gravity and background radiation to map a picture of what hides behind the Sentinel's cloak.

Thus a new picture has been added to the "Dark Archon" section of my profile page. Currently I'm getting an error message when I try to access any of the picture links I posted, so I suggest you be patient! FF dot NET always seems to be in the process of making one change or another, so I'm certain that they'll have the picture links working again real soon! Be certain to stop back to visit the profile page and take a look at the _Dokimasia_. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words!

* * *

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter IX: Plan Of Attack**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _U.S.S. Relativity_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

As the _Relativity_ emerged from its latest journey through time and space, Captain Data studied the curious faces of all the 24th century Starfleet officers crowded onto his small bridge. In addition to the standard complement of on-duty personnel, Captain Janeway and her entire senior staff were present along with both Commander Ducane and Captain Sisko. Data had paused just long enough to recover the shuttle _Millenium_ from its wormhole mission before ordering all three surviving Timeships to rendezvous in the Beta Quadrant. They had deliberately chosen an exit point well away from the Kovar star system so that the temporal rift created by their movement through time would hopefully be discreet and undetectable by their – so far – unseen, unknown opponent.

"All non-essential systems are now off-line," reported Lt. Ingram. "We dropped out of warp in direct line with Beta Kariadne… particularly while cloaked, its intense solar radiation will have shielded our warp signature from their sensors. We're now rigged for passive sensing only, so there will also be no detectable emissions from our cloaking shield. We should be able to conduct a detailed study of the entire area solely by measuring the disturbances in normal gravity and background radiation. Using the main computer's ability to compare and map the differences from our original 29th century scan, we can quickly produce a reliable image of the hidden object holding position near Kovar."

Captain Data nodded reassuringly. "Proceed," he stated briskly.

Although the bridge was filled near to overcrowding with Starfleet personnel, those from the 24th century were highly trained and thus knew how to stay silent and well out of the way. Data continued to watch them with interest, his emotion chip providing an odd sense of what would best be described as elation at seeing the familiar uniforms once again. Despite his android nature, their presence was extremely reassuring to him… he had learned over the years that familiarity could be a reliable source of comfort in humans, and the same seemed to hold true for him as well.

Next to Ingram, Commander Ducane glanced up toward his Captain with a satisfied smile. "We're ready for silent running sir. All I have to do is fire the impulse engines long enough to drive the ship toward Kovar at just under the speed of light. After that, our momentum will carry us first toward and then through the system while our stealth systems conceal our presence. Once we're on the far side of the sun we can reignite the impulse thrusters… at that point there will be too much radiation from the star between us and our target for them to detect any emissions exhaust."

"Execute," commanded Data. He glanced down from the upper level toward Sisko and the _Voyager_ crew. "Our plan of attack will be fourfold," he informed them. "The first and most important priority is to get a reliable look at what we are facing. Secondly, we will have to somehow board and infiltrate whatever object is hiding in the Kovar star system. Our third objective is to gather reliable intelligence detailing the capabilities of our enemy… in the event that diplomacy fails then hopefully we will have recovered enough data to achieve a tactical advantage. Once we are ready, we can proceed to step four and use whatever means are necessary to force whoever has attacked our galaxy to capitulate. Remember, we must not merely defeat this foe, but also leave sufficient technology in place so that they can remove the attack probes and restore our original timeline."

Sisko stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I hate to play devil's advocate," he admitted. "However, suppose the enemy manages to prevent us from defeating them. What do we do then?"

"A good question." Data checked the readouts on the status console behind him before answering. "The _Nautilus_ will fly through the Kovar system executing a course that mirrors ours," he replied. "This will allow us to assemble a more accurate picture of what is happening there by combining data from two sources instead of one. The _Hillyer_, on the other hand, has received orders to remain on standby outside of the system in case our mission fails." He paused, and even though he was not trying to be dramatic the silence was nonetheless chilling. "If we do not succeed, I can think of only one way to damage a ship's hull composed of the neutronium compound that we detected in the surface metal of the probe …"

"Collision course," Janeway guessed.

"Precisely," Data agreed. "If Captain Raphael Snyder does not hear from us within 48 hours, I have authorized him to accelerate the _Hillyer_ to maximum warp velocity and ram the enemy vessel. He will not have to pierce its outer hull… simply destabilizing their shipboard Omega power source will be a sufficient enough blow to destroy their ability to carry this attack to other galaxies."

"The hull will be all that's _left_ of them," predicted Commander Ducane.

"Such a move will be our last option," Data promised them, "and it will be implemented only if all other efforts have conclusively failed." His attention shifted to the two other ship commanders standing on the lower level. "Captain Sisko, I want you to work with Commander Ducane and take command of an infiltration team," the android ordered. "Captain Janeway and her crew will be used to supplement the command complement of both this ship and the _Nautilus_ as we covertly hide nearby and gather the intelligence needed to find a way to establish a dialogue with our enemy. Since _Voyager_'s senior staff also has significant away mission experience, I would like at least several of them to join the attack team. I will leave the specific personnel assignments up to Captain Janeway, since she is most familiar with her crew."

The bold, red-haired starship commander smiled in response. "It's your fleet and your show, Captain Data," she told him. "It's a nice change of pace to simply be the hired help for once."

The android regarded her with mild, positronic amusement. "I promise to keep you extremely busy."

Janeway turned to face her crew. "Chakotay, I think you and B'Elanna should transfer to the _Nautilus_ as soon as we finish our run past Kovar. You can supplement their bridge crew, provide logistical support and keep in touch with us here. Tuvok, I want you to stay here on the _Relativity_ with me while Tom, Seven, Neelix and Harry join the reconnaissance team."

The Doctor studied her curiously and then shifted his gaze back and forth between the other _Voyager_ crew members. "What about me?" he asked curiously.

"His holographic nature could prove very useful to us," observed Seven of Nine. "Particularly since we now have additional 29th century technology available to us."

"That sounds like a good idea," agreed Chakotay. "Go with the strike team Doctor… that way both you and Lt. Paris can also provide medical support. Hopefully those skills won't be needed, but it's always nice to have a Doctor around… just in case."

"Thank you Commander," the Doctor replied, noticeably pleased.

"We'll need a base of operations to use for planning," pointed out Sisko.

Ducane rose to his feet and Ensign Murry promptly replaced him at the helm station. "Let's use the main hangar bay," the Commander suggested. "We're going to need shuttles to pull this off sooner or later, and if we set up shop down there I can work with a team of specialists to enhance their cloaking shields while we formulate a more detailed plan of action." He glanced around at the heavy concentration of people on the small bridge. "That way we'll at least be out of everyone's way."

"Agreed," Data noted with a confident nod. "Please understand, we will provide intelligence data to you as we gather it, but any strategy you develop will have to be flexible and modified on the fly. You must react appropriately as quickly as new details emerge… there will be very little on this mission that we can predefine and plan out in advance."

"We will adapt," Seven stated confidently.

The members of the group selected for the infiltration team began to file into the turbolift. "Our people are well trained and experienced in these types of situations… _trust_ their judgment," Chakotay suggested. "Seven of Nine is correct… our people are quite good at making it up as they go along."

"Their help is welcome and most appreciated," Ducane responded with a grim smile just before the door to the crowded turbolift snapped closed.

"We are approaching Kovar," Jess Ingram reported with growing excitement. "The computer is beginning to receive telemetry and has begun constructing a sensor map of the unknown object concealed within the star system."

"How can you do that so quickly with passive sensors only?" asked Torres curiously. She took a deep breath, held onto her swelling, pregnant belly for support and descended the small set of stairs at the rear of the bridge. Walking forward to the primary workstations, she paused behind Ingram and Murry and began to observe their work with growing interest. "I've never seen technology capable of mapping a region this efficiently without the use of at least some form of standard sensor emissions."

"We're monitoring and layering together all of the various types of electromagnetic radiation in this sector," Lt. Ingram explained enthusiastically. "Much of it is well beyond the range of a standard humanoid's visible spectrum, and a lot of it also penetrates very deeply into subspace. Therefore, even though our opponent has the ability to cloak their vessel and make it invisible to our eyes…"

"…they can't hide all of the natural disruptions created by the presence of something so large," B'Elanna finished with genuine enthusiasm of her own.

"Exactly." Ingram noted B'Elanna's pregnant condition. "Our three dimensional rendering technique is similar to the process used to image and monitor an unborn child while it grows in its mother's womb. The difference in this case is that we're receiving _only_ and not emitting any detectable radiation to give away our presence." Ingram continued to study her sensor console, waiting for a list of confirmed specifics before reporting on them. "The cloaking field is spherical in nature with a diameter of eighty thousand kilometers. It's concealing something with a gravity field large enough to register as a planet. In fact, based on the initial results we have received I am beginning to think that there is in fact an entire planet hidden inside."

"How can that be?" asked Data curiously. Walking down to the lower level of the bridge, he joined the others standing behind Ingram and Murry. "Our sensor records of the Kovar system contain no record of a planetary object in the orbital slot that you are currently scanning."

"Well there may not have been anything present when the region was originally mapped into our database, but there is definitely a planet there _now_," replied Ensign Murry with mild amusement, glancing back at them and waving a hand at the large, overhead viewscreen for emphasis. "Take a look and see for yourself."

On the screen in front of her, the familiar, spherical image of a large planet began to appear deep inside the green colored, computer defined outer perimeter of the unseen cloaking field. Sitting motionless nearby was a much smaller, lengthy object that seemed to be somehow attached to – perhaps even sticking out of – the planet's surface. Its shape was primarily long and slender with very little detail, but the definition of both the planet and neighboring object improved noticeably with each passing minute as the sensors continued to receive and process data. The _Relativity_'s inertia continued carrying the Timeship through the star system and its constantly changing flight path allowed the main computer to monitor all electromagnetic and gravimetric distortions, using them to continually add more and more detail to the picture.

"That smaller object looks suspiciously like some sort of a ship hovering nearby," decided Torres. "In fact, it looks like a really _big_ ship."

Lt. Ingram smiled with growing satisfaction as the minutes passed and the main computer continued to process new data.

"The Kovar star is now directly between us and the cloaking field," Ingram observed. "So the data we received while traveling to our current location from the other side of the star system can now be combined with telemetry from the _Nautilus_. I'm pretty certain that once I link our main computer to theirs, we will discover that we have in fact got what we needed." The short, efficient blonde-haired Lieutenant continued working steadily and they watched in amazement as additional details continued to fill in. The planet's surface was already pretty well defined, but the computer continued gradually enhancing the lines of the massive starship stationed nearby with more and more detail.

Torres was reading over Ingram's shoulder. "_The alien vessel is nearly 500 kilometers in length_," she gasped with near disbelief.

Jess Ingram nodded firmly. "Confirmation on measurements has been received Captain… the length slightly exceeds 495 kilometers. Average height and width of the spine is approximately 45 kilometers, and the engine sphere at the back of the vessel has a diameter of 98 kilometers. That thing is _huge_, Captain… there's a massive, city-like superstructure of buildings, equipment and industrial plants constructed all over the outer hull. I'll bet that vessel is crewed by tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of humanoids."

"This is precisely the type of technology that we might expect from a species capable of destroying the population of an entire galaxy," noted Data. "They would need to have something like this… a large scale, mobile base from which to launch their attacks. I would imagine that a further investigation by our infiltration team will reveal the vessel to be a stable, completely self sufficient colony – a floating laboratory crewed by people capable of building and repairing any system they require. There would be no need for them to drydock unless they had a major catastrophe; everything they would need to sustain that vessel could be stored on board. Industry sized replicators, power plants, and even large-scale manufacturing facilities would easily fit on an object of that size."

"Under different circumstances, this would be a fascinating first contact opportunity," said Chakotay with a noticeable hint of disappointment. "It's too bad that these people – whoever they are – chose to introduce themselves in such a hostile manner."

"The Kovar system is falling behind us now," Ensign Murry reported. "Our forward momentum has carried us well clear of the system."

"Reactivate our impulse drive and prepare to rendezvous with the _Nautilus_," said Data commandingly. "And as soon as it is ready, please transfer a complete copy of that image along with all related telemetry to our people in the main shuttle bay."

* * *

Ducane was elbow deep in the _Thomas A. Edison_'s shuttle circuitry when Benjamin Sisko lightly tapped him on the shoulder. "I _really_ think you should see this Commander."

"Just one second please… I'm trying to finish realigning the shield emitters," Ducane protested, nearly cussing as a small power surge buzzed through his fingers. The hair on his arms rose, and the Commander sighed heavily as he momentarily focused his complete attention long enough to complete the needed adjustments. Finally he lifted himself off of his knees and rose to his full height. "What's going on Captain?" he asked, right before his jaw fell open from a mixture of shock and disbelief.

_There were FOUR strangers standing next to the shuttle_ Millenium.

Commander Ducane reached over to the communications console and immediately activated the shuttle's Comm-link. "Ducane to bridge," he said tersely.

"_Data here. We're transferring our sensor telemetry to you now Commander_."

"I think you better come down here right away Captain," decided Ducane anxiously. "We have visitors."

"_Acknowledged Commander. I am on my way_."

The Commander noticed that all four of the newcomers wore weapons and various other electronic scanning devices. It was at that moment he realized that – so far – none of the _Relativity_ crew had thought to arm themselves_. And we're sitting here smack dab in the middle of enemy territory_, he thought with frustration. _Holy Hannah are we new at this, and if we don't stop making stupid mistakes we'll be dead before we can be of any help_… Glancing uneasily toward Captain Sisko, Ducane and the others waited patiently until the nearest exit door leading out into the connecting corridor suddenly snapped open, allowing Captain Data to enter.

One of the strangers was an elderly gray-haired male dressed primarily in charcoal black. Two other males wore dark blue uniforms with gold trim, and they stood next to a female with short dark hair. The woman was dressed in light blue jumpsuit and she caught the man dressed in black as he unexpectedly fainted. "Captain, I could use some help here," she said briskly, and one of the other two promptly assisted her in lowering the elderly man gently to the deck flooring.

Sisko glanced toward the group of _Voyager_ crewmen visiting with some of Ducane's people and immediately caught the attention of the holographic Doctor. "We could use some help!" he shouted loudly. "There's an injured man over here!"

Noticing the strange newcomers for the first time, the Doctor and the rest of the _Voyager_ group crossed the hangar bay and joined Ducane, Sisko and Data. The Doctor promptly dropped to his knees and activated his medical tricorder, allowing it to electronically whir away as he waved it across the unconscious man's body. "There doesn't appear to be any permanent damage…" the physician said finally, sighing with obvious relief.

Harry Kim glanced at Neelix with growing doubt. "Does anyone else see the irony in needing a Doctor _before_ we've even left on this mission?" he asked dryly.

Data nodded reassuringly at Ducane. Curiously the Commander studied the other three strangers and asked sharply, "Just who might you people be?"

"This may sound a bit odd, but my name is Jonathan Archer," said a fortyish male wearing a Captain's uniform. The man next to him was studying the sleek design of the _Edison_ and he whistled softly as he conducted a brief visual survey of the flight deck's sophisticated computer consoles. "The tech enthusiast on my left is Commander Charles Tucker, or 'Trip' as he's more commonly known to us. The Vulcan to my right is T'Pol, my Science Officer."

Benjamin Sisko studied their uniforms more closely and chuckled. "The latest victims to be claimed by time travel," he noted with a wry grin. "Twenty-second century… Starfleet?" he guessed.

Archer nodded. "My people and I have assisted our friends from the 31st century before," he told them informatively. "We've already been recruited on a number of occasions to assist in an ongoing battle against a temporal cold war… to help stop people who try to tamper with our timeline."

"We already know about the galaxy-wide attack that you are investigating," the woman called T'Pol replied, also kneeling and placing a hand alongside the unconscious man's neck to check for a pulse. "Mr. Dunne filled us in on most of the details regarding the situation prior to bringing us here. He spent a great deal of time searching for other survivors over the past few days and finally had no choice but to recruit us to assist him." The Doctor glanced at her with noticeable irritation and she backed swiftly away so that he could continue with his examination.

Ducane curiously studied the sophisticated equipment attached to the unconscious man's belt. "Is that 31st century technology?" he asked with understandable interest.

"Yes it is," Commander Tucker told him. "It's Nathan's. Nathan Dunne. He was cut off from his allies in the future and couldn't locate any other survivors. So he contacted us and we helped him hook his equipment into our ship's main warp reactor. He needed the extra juice to amplify his temporal scans and expand the scanning range of his portable device. It assisted him in detecting your presence here in the Beta Quadrant." His eyes continued to study all of the shuttles and electronic workstations scattered throughout the large shuttle bay. "So this is what the 31st century looks like?"

"Not quite," said Ducane dryly. "You've actually moved _backwards_ in time, to the Beta Quadrant in what would currently be the 18th century on Earth. You're standing aboard the _U.S.S. Relativity_, a time traveling starship from the 29th century."

"This new fellow…" said the Doctor and paused, appearing somewhat perplexed.

"Nathan Dunne," T'Pol informed him politely. "As Commander Tucker told you, he is a temporal operative from the 31st century."

"It looks like we've got at least a few people now from _every_ century in history," the Doctor growled irritably. "Stand by everyone; I believe Mr. Dunne's condition has stabilized enough to safely receive a stimulant. If we don't receive any more unexpected visitors for a few seconds, he should be fine."

A hypospray hissed convincingly against Dunne's arm and he took a deep breath almost immediately afterwards. Seconds later he opened his eyes and stared up at the myriad of familiar faces above him. Starfleet officers from three different centuries were looking back at him. "It _worked_…" he sighed with noticeable relief. "I finally located someone who can help me fight these people… and this terrible _thing_… that's been done to us!"

"I feel obligated to point out that you almost _died_, sir," snapped the Doctor sharply. "How many trips through time have you made lately? Do you know what you've just put your body through? You're suffering from at least three different types of radiation exposure, physical exhaustion, extreme emotional and mental fatigue... One or two more of these time jumps of yours and you're not going to have to worry about finding anyone, except perhaps an efficient undertaker."

Dunne smiled at _Voyager_'s holographic physician with amusement. "I have a skintight temporal shield surrounding my body that protects me from most of the ill effects," he replied, holding the tips of his fingers together for emphasis. A light blue aura of focused energy crackled suddenly between them. "The shield is not enough of a barrier to stop directed energy discharges like weapons fire, but it is highly resistant to temporal radiation. An automated disconnect would have sounded an alarm and prevented the jump if conditions weren't right and my life was in danger." He shrugged. "It's part of the job Doctor… I move around a lot. Sometimes time travel takes a moment to shake off… other times I don't notice anything."

"We're used to dealing with a man named Daniels," Archer explained to them. "Traditionally Mr. Daniels has been our contact from the future during a crisis situation like this one. On this occasion, however, we were approached instead by Mr. Dunne."

"Daniels became another casualty in the battle to preserve our timeline," Dunne growled angrily. "I miss him dearly and wish he was here to assist us with this crisis." He sat up and took several more deep breaths and then nodded toward the Doctor. "I feel fine now," he insisted. "Let's get on with this."

Ducane laughed, suddenly feeling a little less alone. "It looks like we've got four new volunteers for our infiltration team," he noted, smiling mischievously at Ben Sisko and Data.

Captain Data stepped forward, having been content to listen until now. "Indeed," he agreed. "I strongly recommend that – ready or not – you load your teams onto the shuttles and depart immediately. Our unknown enemy can no doubt monitor travel through time just like we can, and the arrival of these unexpected visitors may have been detected. If so, our opponents will move against us as soon as they are able to." He glanced down at Nathan and shook his head. "You're taking far too many risks, Mr. Dunne. We have been covertly working to engage the enemy on our terms, and your impulsive time jump onto the _Relativity_ may very well have given away our presence here."

Dunne's face reddened. "Do you _know_ what I've been through the past few days?" he blurted out unexpectedly. "For awhile I thought I was the _only_ one who survived… I had no idea whether anyone else managed to escape the attack. The destruction to the timeline was _that_ thorough!" He gritted his teeth, trying to control his anger. "I apologize for not taking the time to contact the Temporal Integrity Commission and file the necessary paperwork with your government. I was sincerely hoping you would cut me some slack on this occasion since we're the only people who still _exist_."

The Doctor placed a hand on Dunne's shoulder and kept him from rising. "Whether you admit it or not, you _are_ suffering ill effects from your repeated trips through time," he said in a cautioning tone. "I strongly suggest that you control your emotions and focus, for the time being, on rest."

The android turned to Ducane and Captain Sisko. "Are you ready for departure?"

Ducane shrugged, waving a hand at the newcomers. "I guess that depends. Are we taking these four along with us too?"

Data's gaze shifted toward the Doctor and the injured man next to him. "Mr. Dunne is going to be fine, Captain," the holographic physician assured him. "If his symptoms persist, I can treat him further using a portable medical kit."

Captain Data nodded. "Then I think you should _all_ leave now, while you still can," he ordered.

Sisko looked at the android with obvious skepticism. "We don't even have a basic plan in place yet," he pointed out. "Do we need to move quickly? Yes, I completely agree with you that we do, but it might help matters considerably if we at the very least looked a little bit before we take such a major leap." He took a step toward the android Captain but Seven of Nine grabbed his arm firmly and held him back.

"We will _adapt_," she declared firmly and resolutely.

Data's response was immediate. "The sensor telemetry that Lt. Ingram uploaded to your shuttle computers reveals that there are dozens of smaller ships stationed at various locations on the target planet's surface," he told them. "Many of them are smaller shuttles that were launched from the hangar bay located on the ventral hull of the mother ship, but a few are much larger vessels that normally dock at various points along the spine's outer superstructure. I suggest that you begin by capturing and detaining at least one of these landing parties. If you are able to board one of their ships and take their places, your team will be able to return to the mother vessel without raising suspicion."

"We can and will _adapt_," Seven repeated, releasing Sisko's arm and moving to rejoin the small group from _Voyager_.

Sisko looked first to Captain Data and then turned to regard Ducane thoughtfully. "Okay," he decided, shrugging his broad, well-muscled shoulders. "At least it's a starting point and we'll be able to determine just who it is we're dealing with."

"While on this mission, none of you will be able to send transmissions of any sort," Data informed them. "Under no circumstances are you to give away our position. If your team is unable to complete its mission and somehow manages to escape, maintain radio silence and proceed to a rendezvous with the _Hillyer_. Captain Snyder will know where the other two Timeships are located, and he'll be able to get a message to us that include intelligence data from any report that you file."

"Isn't the _Hillyer_ the ship you picked to _ram_ the enemy?" asked Tom Paris.

"If this mission fails, all resources are expendable," Captain Data responded, ignoring the sarcasm. "If necessary, the _Nautilus_ and the _Relativity_ will also make similar attack runs on the enemy starship."

Ducane studied the worried crowd of faces surrounding him. "My people may not be as combat capable as all of you are, but we know how to handle timeline incursions," he informed them. "This is our business; it's what we've been trained to do. So if everybody follows instructions, then I predict we'll be fine. I want the _Voyager_ team to board the _Edison_ with Captain Sisko," he ordered, then switched his attention back to the newcomers. "Captain Archer, you and your group will accompany me and my _Relativity_ colleagues on board the _Millenium_. We'll make a more detailed study of the sensor telemetry en route, rendezvous at the prearranged destination on the planet, and then pick a target to attack once we arrive."

"That works for me," Sisko growled confidently. "Let's get on with this."

"Ensign Williams, you and your specialists will remain behind to make room for Captain Archer's group," decided Data. He noticed the disappointed expression on the officer's face. "Do not worry, Ensign… there will be plenty of work for you and your specialists here on board the _Relativity_. As this mission progresses, we will have a lot of new telemetry to analyze. Please relocate your people back to the bridge and assist Captain Janeway and Lt. Ingram."

"Yes sir," said Williams, snapping to full attention. He and three others turned briskly and promptly exited the hangar bay.

"I apologize for my earlier tantrum Captain… as you might imagine, I've had a rough few days." Nathan Dunne detached one of the electronic devices from his belt and handed it to Data. "This is my own personal tricorder," he told the android. "It contains a record of all my timeline scans up to this point. You can add my data to your own and study all of it while we're gone."

"Thank you," Data said gratefully as he accepted the device. "I will do just that."

* * *

_Captain's Log, supplemental: The successful recruitment of Starfleet allies from both the 22__nd__ and 24__th__ centuries would normally be most reassuring to a commander in my position. We even have a representative from the 31__st__ century at our disposal now, although the circumstances of our situation naturally dictated that I send him along with the hastily assembled infiltration team. It remains to be seen whether such diverse groups of people from different centuries can successfully work together as a cohesive unit, particularly given the severe lack of available intelligence data on this mission. They will quite literally have to pick a starting point at random on the hidden target planet and begin from there._

_I have just completed a thorough review of the data stored on Nathan Dunne's tricorder. His temporal surveys, much like our own, are extremely abstract in nature and have provided me with little additional help. Therefore, I have once again linked my neural net to the_ Relativity_'s main computer and am cross-referencing all of the data together in the hopes that the few detectable anomalies we have discovered will make more sense when combined with the results of Dunne's scan. There is little else to do, for the moment, until our away teams return to us and provide more information_.

* * *

Upon merging Dunne's data with the files stored in the _Relativity_'s database, Captain Data continued his review of the gathered telemetry, this time focusing his attention on the information tagged with a lower priority. Most of that data concerned the probes – it was data considered to be less important because the attack on the Milky Way had already been completed successfully. At many times the speed of a normal human brain, he carefully studied the odd, raised glyph markings that they had discovered lining the surface of the device scanned only days earlier. There had been much speculation over the years, but due to the limited availability of samples of the strange Preserver language, no one had ever been able to come up with anything specific.

Of all the people throughout history who had studied images similar to these, only Spock of Vulcan – in the early 23rd century – had come anywhere close to divining their true meaning. Thus Data had decided to make use of the resources he had available to him and renew the effort to decipher the odd language while he had the opportunity to do so. The door to his quarters chimed, drawing him back out of the cyber world his positronic mind was currently speeding through. He blinked twice and then temporarily suspended his link with the _Relativity_'s computer.

"Enter," he said politely.

The door to his quarters snapped open, and the Vulcan Tuvok entered. "You requested to speak with me Captain?" he asked, his tone emotionless and yet tinged with a slight curiosity.

"I did." Data waved to an empty chair across from the large desk that lined most of the room. Due to his android nature he only allowed himself to 'sleep' for several hours each day on a small cot along one wall. As it had been with the original android centuries ago, he had discovered that the dream activity his mind generated during his simulated sleep could be a source of great creative inspiration during the rare times when normal logic was not enough for effective problem solving. But now he had others with similar backgrounds to consult, so he swiveled the screen atop his work station in front of him so that his Vulcan guest could also see the probe image displayed on it. "Have you read the data files regarding these unknown glyphs and Starfleet's background documentation regarding the Preserver language?"

Tuvok nodded affirmatively. "I have. My assessment is no different than that of yours and Ambassador Spock. I believe the symbols to be some sort of intriguing combination of mathematical symbols and musical notes… however, the nature of what they are specifically meant to communicate has yet to be determined." He raised an eyebrow at the android. "You feel that they are important somehow in resolving this crisis we face?"

"I have deduced that at least some of the markings allow access to the interior of the probe. If true, then we have conclusively proven that the technology used in the attack on our galaxy is that of the Preservers. I had not given the Preserver race much additional thought since our initial encounter with the probe, since my crew had other more important priorities to attend to."

"What you say makes logical sense," agreed Tuvok. "What specifically are you after, Captain?"

"Referencing knowledge recorded over centuries of Starfleet history, I have begun to use my unique processing skills to decode these glyphs and ascertain their full meaning," Data responded. "However, my android instincts tell me that there is more to this cipher than simple language… the Preservers have always been meticulous in their logic, efficiency and organization on all worlds they have visited."

The Vulcan tactical officer found himself intrigued by the possibility. "What have you discovered?"

Data pointed to the image of the probe's outer hull. "The top row of symbols is a code allowing us entry to the probe itself. It is also quite possible that this is a trap carefully designed to confuse anyone who is not familiar with the technology, since we are virtually certain that the device is powered by Omega molecules."

"If what you say is true, then anyone who wants access to this device would need to be well versed in the science used to design and construct it," theorized Tuvok. "They're daring us to open it up, and if we make even the slightest mistake the consequences would prove disastrous."

"Exactly. Omega, in this case, serves a dual purpose. It is a source of energy to sustain the probe's function over centuries, but at the same time Omega's extremely volatile nature protects the probe from sabotage or destruction." Data continued studying the image closely. "The obelisk that Spock's team discovered and researched was located on the surface of a planet. His documentation notes that certain tonal qualities had to be recited in the proper sequence in order to access the structure's entrance. His Captain triggered the correct access code completely by accident, but other than that they were unable to learn anything else significant due to the limited amount of information found on the object's outer surface."

"We have a unique opportunity in this matter," Tuvok observed with interest. "Not only has additional Preserver technology been discovered over the years, but you have 29th century technology at your disposal that should be capable of resolving the matter… _if_ there is an answer to be found."

Captain Data was still staring intently at the image on the small workstation screen in front of him, so Tuvok shifted his own gaze back to the image as well. "I believe I have already found the answers we seek Commander," the android informed him.

"Indeed." Tuvok remained standing next to the chair that Data had motioned to earlier, content to remain standing. "I would be extremely interested to know what you have learned, Captain."

"The second row of symbols contains a very specific, very detailed warning," said Data informatively. "It is a brief description of how Omega molecules can damage the fabric of space/time, along with a message stating that only the original designers should use the access code."

"That makes sense," the Vulcan replied. "After initially recruiting my crew, you mentioned that the probe is capable of warding off almost all but the most persistent of conventional weapons attacks. After reviewing your tactical data, I find it extremely intriguing that the device also managed to maintain its precise position and orientation in space despite the tremendous impacts resulting from the _Relativity_'s directed energy discharges. As compared to conventional shield technology currently in use by Starfleet, the probe's deflector system is obviously extremely sophisticated."

"It also implies that the probe is only meant to be moved by whoever originally placed it there," added Data. "Consider… this specific unit is only effective if it links up with and works in combination with all of the other probes. Together they comprise a network that broadcasts a subspace signal instantly lethal to sentient humanoid life… a transmission that makes efficient use of subspace and saturates our entire galaxy with its deadly message. Captain Sisko's report states that the Bajoran wormhole aliens he and Commander Ducane contacted repeatedly referred to that signal as some sort of song."

"Again a direct reference to music," said Tuvok, intrigued. "But the probe is _space_ based, and music is something that requires a planetary atmosphere in order to be heard."

Data continued reading the symbols near the base of the probe's cylinder. "I believe the last row of symbols is a code that allows access to the Provider _network_," he announced, watching Tuvok for a reaction. He was slightly disappointed to see only the standard, calm Vulcan demeanor.

"And one would _sing_ in the vacuum of space by using an electronic transmission," concluded Tuvok.

"Exactly," Data nodded in agreement. "If you will assist me, I believe we can finish translating the bottom row of glyph symbols and link the _Relativity_'s main computer into the Preserver network."

The Vulcan took a deep breath at the thought of completing Data's plan. "I feel obligated to caution you on this matter Captain," he declared firmly. "I am Captain Janeway's tactical officer, and normally vigilant by nature. If we link a ship's computer into an unknown, sophisticated alien network of this size then there's no telling what might happen. At the very least we risk giving away our presence here, and perhaps considerably more. If the enemy has the proper firewalls in place, which they should, then any attempt at intrusion on our part may unintentionally grant them access to our own system. Until we can conduct a complete study of their design and build an adequate defense of our own, our computer will be fully vulnerable."

"I am well aware of that," Data noted with the slight, amused android smile of his. "However, we have risked much already by launching an infiltration team in the hopes that they can physically board the alien ship and learn enough to help us. Can you think of a better distraction than this that will draw an opponent's attention away from our people?"

After thinking the matter over carefully, Tuvok admitted that he could not.


	10. A Higher State Of Consciousness

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter X: A Higher State Of Consciousness**

* * *

Captain Data sat down on the small cot in his quarters, opening up more space for B'Elanna Torres to adjust the sophisticated electronic transceiver that she had hastily constructed. The access port on the right side of his head was open, and the pregnant _Voyager_ Chief of Engineering was in the process of connecting her invention to one of his optical data ports. Torres quickly verified that the device was properly hooked into Data's neural net, insured that the android's own internal power source would be sufficient to operate it, and then stood back with a smile to admire the finished product.

"One state-of-the-art, Preserver network interface device, now on-line and at your disposal sir," declared Torres proudly, waving both hands in an outward swing for emphasis. "I may be pregnant, but I can still build a sophisticated subspace link if the situation calls for it."

Behind her, Commander Chakotay chuckled with amusement. "I've read about the original Data in the Starfleet _Enterprise_ logs," he admitted. "Captain Picard mentioned on several occasions that 'surprisingly, it was Mr. Data's intense curiosity at the universe around him - not his desire to be more human - that usually got him into trouble'. Picard even felt on several occasions that the original android was overly impulsive at times, often brushing aside potential consequences as something to be dealt with later in his broader pursuit of knowledge. I hope you're not planning something similar now... this could be very dangerous."

The android Captain leaned back on the cot into a reclining position, experimenting with the new electronic connections added to his hardware. "Everyone who enters Starfleet knows long before they are officially admitted that they are required to assume certain risks," he pointed out. "Since my hardware is much more durable - and often more easily repaired - than the body of an average humanoid, Data-Class life forms have a long, established history of accepting reasonable risk in exchange for the achievement of mission objectives. Trust me, my risk assessment software is quite advanced." Data had requested that Captain Janeway take charge of the _Relativity_'s bridge during his absence, and he thoughtfully studied both Lt. Torres and Commander Chakotay. "Weren't you two planning to transfer to the _Nautilus?_" he asked mischievously.

"Are you kidding?" Torres' expression was one of complete shock. "You're going to try and infiltrate an alien network!" she said excitedly. "I've always _dreamed_ of having a chance just to _meet _the original Data from Starfleet... do you really think I'd miss an opportunity to help you try something like this? Wild horses couldn't drag me away!"

"I beg to differ," Data decided, holding up his right forefinger for emphasis. "Two or more large equines, properly agitated, could indeed 'drag you away' if you were securely attached to them. In your pregnant condition, such an event would quite probably even draw a large crowd of spectators."

B'Elanna's eyes widened in shock and she stared at the android and his amused smile. "Obviously, you are well aware of how dangerous this is and are attempting to use humor in the hopes of lightening our frame of mind," she guessed.

Data nodded positively. "Obviously."

Lt. Tuvok handed Data an electronic padd to study. The Captain accepted it and glanced over the simulation results listed on its small screen. "An acceptable risk," the Vulcan observed.

"Nevertheless, I am still experiencing a larger than normal amount of simulated anxiety from my emotion chip," acknowledged Captain Data. "The experience so far has been... extremely stimulating."

"Quite understandable," decided Chakotay. "There is no telling what you will discover once you connect to something as unknown as this. It's quite natural that you would feel nervous."

"Indeed," Tuvok agreed. "Every indication suggests that we are dealing with something that will completely transcend everything we currently understand as a conventional computer network. Given the circumstances, you may rest assured that we have prepared several necessary safeguards to protect you during your period of interaction with it."

Torres smiled reassuringly. "Precaution number one is an automatic cut-off available at any time you feel threatened. If you detect unwelcome access to your system or notice an unanticipated problem with the interface, all you have to do is initiate one of your self diagnostic cycles. Once activated, I've coded the start-up subroutine to automatically terminate your link with the Preserver system."

"There will also be a time limit," noted Tuvok, "which we are calling 'precautionary measure number two'. I have calculated your positronic brain's maximum processing speed and factored in a reasonable enough timeframe to allow your system to access and study the alien transmissions. We will allow you a maximum connection limit of two minutes, at which point B'Elanna will physically shut down the link from this end. That way, if you are prevented in some manner from leaving the network at your own convenience, we will still be able to safely disconnect you from this end."

"I doubt that either safety measure will be necessary, since the Preservers will likely to be as curious about me and my abilities as I am about them. It should be a most interesting first contact situation."

"Diplomacy at 900 trillion operations per second," said Chakotay with an enthusiastic grin. "I hope the recording software integrated into B'Elanna's new invention is operational."

The Engineer double-checked several settings to insure all systems were functional. "It is," Torres confirmed. "There is simply no way to monitor everything that's happening from this end, and no telling what the Captain will find once he links into this network. Since Data's positronic brain allows him unique multi-tasking abilities, we will rely on him to perform hundreds of thousands of diverse functions simultaneously. I have given the Captain the ability to electronically tag anything he considers a priority, and the recorder will be searching for that specific code when deciding which information to download and permanently archive in his internal database. I doubt we're going to get everything we're after on our first try, but allowing the Captain to pick and choose what is most important during his link should give us a lot to work with." She shrugged casually. "It will certainly be more effective than having the interface cherry pick information at random..."

The android nodded confidently to Torres, Chakotay and Tuvok. "I am ready to make the connection," he informed them. "Please proceed."

Tuvok opened a tricorder and activated it, verifying the status of the data stream it was analyzing. "The necessary network initiation protocols have been programmed into your subspace interface mechanism as defined in the Preserver glyph markings that we decoded," he informed them. "Since B'Elanna has attached the new hardware directly to you, simply transferring your internal power to the device should activate it and automatically initiate the connection."

"Understood," replied Captain Data. "Initiating the link _now_..."

As he spoke the final sentence several amber colored lights lit up on the device attached to the Captain's head. There was a soft electronic whine for a few seconds, a high-pitched sound that faded away to nothing as swiftly as it began. The android Captain closed his eyes for a moment, during which time his positronic brain was fully prepared to analyze every possible aspect of the experience as it took place.

_That was why it was so surprising to them all when Captain Data's entire body unexpectedly turned transparent. Less than one second later the android vanished completely, and the mattress upon which he had been sitting - freed from his considerable weight - recoiled lightly back into its normal appearance._

B'Elanna Torres stared in shock at the empty cot where, only seconds ago, the android had been reclining peacefully. "I would have been the first to admit that there were a lot of things that could go wrong with this idea, but _that_ isn't one of them..." she declared with fascination.

Tuvok was still studying the tricorder readout while Chakotay shook his head with complete disbelief. "So much for precautionary measure number _two_," the First Officer commented dryly. "I sincerely hope that the Captain still has option number one available to him... wherever he currently is."

* * *

_When Data opened his eyes he could see only empty blackness in front of him. Physically he was no longer aboard the_ Relativity, _and for the moment his actual whereabouts were a complete mystery to him. The experience could best be defined as floating in a dark, weightless void of some sort - there was no discernible gravity of any kind and he definitely couldn't see anything. All around him was a pervasive, completely dark emptiness that seemingly had no end. The Captain tried waving an arm in front of his face and noticed that he couldn't even see his hand. His next move was to determine whether or not he still retained physical form by touching a finger to his forehead. Upon feeling the light pressure of his forefinger, Data tried next to speak. Even though his mouth opened and he felt himself speaking words normally, his ears detected no sound._

**You have to THINK here**, _a soft, unexpected voice whispered inside of his mind_. **Use your MIND to communicate, CAPTAIN**.** I will help you**.

**Intriguing**, _Data responded instantly, his mind actively searching for information_. **Where exactly is HERE?**

_In whatever new reality he was experiencing, Data was startled at how swiftly things worked. Any normal human mind would instantly have been lost amidst the countless data trails streaming back and forth around him. He could sense the constant flow in all directions even though he couldn't visually see it, and the preprogrammed subroutines that Lt. Tuvok had helped him create activated instantly. Kicking his neural net up to full capacity, he began selecting and analyzing data streams at random. He remained fully prepared to electronically tag anything that even remotely interested him, but was disappointed to discover that a vast majority of the information currently available to him was basic, routine communication logs_.

**You have entered at the very LOWEST level of access**, _the unknown voice informed him_. **I cannot grant you a HIGHER clearance level until you first RELEASE your own protection protocols and open yourself up to US**.

_Data temporarily ignored the suggestion, keeping his full defensive firewall subroutines active while maintaining a readiness to trigger his diagnostic programming at the slightest hint of unauthorized access to his positronic brain. While he waited, he continued to review the data flowing through his consciousness, allowing it to touch and interact within the temporary memory of his neural net. Picking out data threads at random was proving to be too slow and inefficient a process, so he implemented a new strategy. He began studying the first data stream that touched him and, one by one as new ones attached themselves temporarily to his mind, he meticulously began analyzing them ALL_.

_The original Data from so many centuries past would not have been able to execute such a plan, but the Captain's current hardware had benefited greatly from significant design enhancements over the centuries. The maximum speed of his neural net was now well over 900 teraflops instead of the original 60 that Dr. Noonien Soong had built into his processor. His internal data storage capacity, at one time measured in petabytes, had expanded exponentially and was now more accurately defined in exabytes. _

_Despite this vast amount of permanent storage now available to him, Data resisted archiving anything that was not readily identifiable as crucial to their mission. Compared to his own modest specifications, the tremendous amount of data moving back and forth around him was limitless... a vast, invisible network many orders of magnitude superior to anything that he had previously encountered. He could not hope to accurately measure its scope without completely redefining standard hardware and software definitions as he currently understood them. He began by using his mind to form a general overview of what he was seeing in his mind_. _Using a top-to-bottom analytical technique, he began mapping a detailed multi-dimensional landscape of the huge information network flowing around him. Rather than recording specific streams of data, he began storing an analysis of the network's structure._

**This is definitely a very large, very fascinating place to visit**, _Data thought silently. To his surprise, it readily became apparent that most of the data being exchanged across this amazing, sizable network was in fact taking advantage of the subspace environment by traveling _faster_ than the speed of light!_

_He deliberately tried to keep his thoughts private, but the network in which he currently floated selectively extracted the tiny electrical impulses from his neural net and instantly converted them into the mathematically precise, musical Preserver language_. **You must TRUST, **_the unknown entity speaking to him responded. _**We will not harm you or rewrite any of your software without first receiving your CONSENT to do so. That would violate our ETIQUETTE of non-interference, a rule of LAW that is CRUCIAL to the stable, successful operation of this NETWORK**.

_Data carefully considered the proposal using his analytical subroutines, weighing the potential risks versus benefits of accepting the offer presented to him. While his primary focus remained on holding firm to his identity and coming to a decision, the rest of his processing ability cycled through thread after thread of data that continually streamed past him like countless trillions of invisible, crisscrossing rivers._ **I need more INFORMATION first**, _he decided_. **Where exactly IS this place? I recall making a request to see this place, but how exactly did I leave the RELATIVITY?**

**YOU have accessed the NETWORK**, the voice responded insistently. **In doing so you have pulled yourself out of SPACE and TIME as you currently understand them and gained ADMITTANCE to a SUBSPACE fold. The further inside you venture, the more you will LEARN**.

_In real time, Data estimated that slightly more than thirty-one seconds had elapsed since he had initiated the link. Throughout the most recent twenty-four seconds, his central processor had relentlessly accessed and analyzed countless zettabytes of data in the same manner that whoever was speaking to him was in turn reading his thoughts. The experience was quite astonishing to him and unlike anything else that he or his ancestors had ever encountered. _

_Whatever manner of information processing network that this was, it was also - he knew instinctively - capable of much, much more than simple data processing and communication. Information here literally moved at trans-warp speed, taking full advantage of the faster than light travel available to subspace in a manner very similar to Starfleet communications. His decision to focus on and decipher the Preserver glyphs and utilize their access capability had led him to one of the most remarkable discoveries in Starfleet history... what was happening to him now was undeniably a historical landmark_.

**YES**, _the voice spoke reassuringly_. **The network spans both TIME and SPACE. You are beginning to SENSE what we truly are. Allow us to HELP you**.

_At lightning speed Data's analysis of the surrounding data flow continued. With his next command decision already made, he played for time... hoping to delay the inevitable for another precious few seconds. This was the first, lowest level of the network, after all, and understanding its design and capabilities would be crucial to comprehending higher levels of access_.

**I cannot ALLOW complete and TOTAL access to my hardware without first knowing WHY you need to make such a thorough examination**, _his thoughts communicated honestly_. **Additionally, I believe that someone or something linked with this network has caused harm to many of my people. They present a DANGER to me and - for the moment at least - must not gain knowledge of my presence here or control of my systems**.

_There was a brief pause that lasted for only a miniscule fraction of a second. For Data the event was similar to the normal pause that a humanoid speaking would utilize to review a sentence before vocalizing it, in order to insure that it was phrased properly_. **Such access would NEVER be granted**, _the voice responded_. **This is the NETWORK, and such a link without first obtaining your PERMISSION would violate both our PRIVACY and ETIQUETTE protocol**.

_4.44 seconds later Data completed his analysis of the Preserver network's entry level and proceeded to take their advice. He fully release his security systems, allowing the network complete authorization to read data, not just from the thoughts crisscrossing his neural net, but also directly from his permanent storage. Even data from his privacy database was extracted, all of the information merging with the larger network so that whatever unknown entity serving as the top-level operating system could analyze the android... this newest, most curious link that had added itself into its massive chain of interconnected systems. At first nothing appeared to change, allowing the Captain additional time to further define his overall understanding of the experience_.

**This is BEYOND mere technology, is it NOT?** _His mind asked_. **This is something ELSE entirely**.

**We BOTH begin to UNDERSTAND**, _came the prompt reply_. **What you seek CAN indeed be found here, but you must wait and be patient a little while longer in order to ACHIEVE your objective**.

**WHY?** _The thought was not meant to be demanding, but certain aspects of the Preserver network continued to elude even Data's sophisticated processing capabilities. An impulsive thought, driven primarily by the output from his emotion chip, escaped into his neural net before he could suppress it_. **Are you GOD? **_He asked curiously_.

**No**... _Data detected a definite hint of amusement in the 'tone' of the unseen voice that continued to penetrate deep into his electronic thoughts. It was the first apparent sign to him that anything resembling human emotion existed within the network, and the Captain wondered briefly if what he 'heard' was the sincere laughter of a living being or simply a program of some sort generating an artificial feeling in a manner similar to the output from his own emotion chip_. **An INTELLIGENT designer's plans are not for US to understand until we are READY to. Unfortunately, WE are not allowed to CHOOSE when that occurs**.

_The Captain temporarily postponed additional questions in favor of dedicating his considerable processing resources to a more detailed evaluation of the network. His neural net detected a considerable amount of new information suddenly available to him as he was granted additional access privileges in return for permitting entry into his own memory. Immediately the android began a comprehensive, organized study of the new information now available for review at this next, higher security level. His gamble paid off immediately as most of his questions were answered almost instantaneously simply by translating and studying this newest, enormous data stream. Again Data felt an enormous burst of electrically simulated anxiety as he recognized the full scope of just who it was that had attacked the Milky Way and the considerable strengths available to their opponent_.

**I must go now**, _he thought silently and with focused intensity, already initiating the self diagnostic subroutine that would sever his connection to the Preserver network_. **I need to CONSULT with my colleagues and decide how we would like to proceed before requesting more than minimal use of your considerable RESOURCES**.

**Make haste**, _the unseen presence cautioned him_. **If you are to change what IS then you must act quickly. The longer you WAIT, the less likely you are to SUCCEED**.

* * *

"...vanished immediately after the connection was established," Captain Data heard Torres saying as he reappeared on the cot. As he materialized, all three _Voyager_ crewmembers turned with obvious relief to face him. "Belay that Captain," B'Elanna continued. "Data just returned and appears to be undamaged."

"_Understood. Please let me know as soon as you've confirmed that he is functional and ready to meet with us_," Janeway's voice crackled in reply out of Torres' Comm-badge. "_I'll bet he's got a very interesting story to tell_."

Tuvok immediately began scanning the android with his tricorder. "I am detecting a considerable amount of additional information stored in your permanent memory, Captain," he noted, raising a curious eyebrow. "Were you able to discover anything useful?"

"I was." Data glanced around the room, noticing that his optical sensors were slightly out of alignment. The blurred vision resulting from the discrepancy cleared almost instantly along with the subtle distortion in the voices he was hearing. "How long have I been gone?"

"You were connected for almost _two_ minutes!" Chakotay told him excitedly. "Your physical body actually disappeared from this room... _where_ in blazes did you go?"

"Into a layer of subspace," the android Captain responded. "I was able to access and interact with something that has always been available to us... something so old and ancient that it almost transcends time itself. Humans and other space-faring races simply had no idea that it was there." He stiffened abruptly and raised himself into a seated position. "Please page Captain Janeway immediately and ask her to meet us in Conference Room A... we must move swiftly if we are to have any hope of successfully ending our confrontation with the Preservers."

* * *

When Janeway arrived in the Conference room with Lt. Ingram at her side, the first thing she noticed was that Data still wore the interface device that B'Elanna had constructed. The small access hatch covered with pseudo-skin and hair located on the right side of his head remained open, and she could see the amber lights winking on and off as the apparatus continued to receive and process power from the android's internal power supply. She studied him curiously as he sat patiently at the head of the lengthy, hexagonal table awaiting her arrival.

"Are you..." the red-haired _Voyager_ Captain took a closer look at the mechanism. "Captain...are you still _linked_ with that alien network?" She picked a chair on the nearest side of the table, seating herself next to Tuvok and directly opposite of Chakotay and Torres.

The android smiled at her, and then pointed a forefinger at the table surface in front of him. A transparent image of a steaming pot of coffee surrounded by half a dozen mugs slowly coalesced into seven solid, physical objects. "What do you think?" he asked mischievously, picking up the coffee and pouring some of it carefully into the first mug. "I downloaded our replicator's pattern database into my own system and can now use my link to the alien network and manufacture anything in my files."

Janeway watched the display, clearly impressed. "Magic or science?" she asked as she accepted a mug of liquid from him. She sniffed at it curiously, and recognizing the aroma instantly she cautiously tasted it. "My taste buds would say magic, but my brain tells me that this is science of some sort."

"Perhaps a bit of both," speculated Data. He continued pouring coffee for the others, and only Chakotay declined a cup.

"Apparently there is substantially more to the subspace network that connects the probes than we first anticipated," Torres said excitedly. "Once Data got in, he was allowed access to all kinds of resources that are freely available to whoever needs them. Replicator technology, long range communications, travel between galaxies or alternate realities... all of it only touches the tip of the iceberg as to what's available. And the beauty of this whole thing is that we only need to _ask_ for the help that we need."

Janeway glanced at the coffee pot. "Replicator technology?" she repeated. "Pardon me for saying so, but what Captain Data just did... materializing these things from nowhere..." She shook her head with amazement, silently reviewing what she had just witnessed. "That looked amazingly 'Q'-like," she decided finally. "Could this discovery be the _source_ of their vaunted 'magical' abilities?"

"Possibly," Data replied. "If I had to make an educated guess, I would say no."

"But that is definitely the type of flashy stunt they like to pull to impress us," persisted Janeway. "After all this time of thinking otherwise... could it be that the 'Q' actually rely on _technology_ just like the rest of us?"

Torres shrugged. "Starfleet has encountered them a number of times, but we've never observed them using equipment of any sort."

"That doesn't mean they don't have it," observed Chakotay. "The resources that Captain Data interacted with are totally hidden... concealed deep within subspace."

"When I personally witnessed the civil war inside the Continuum, the 'Q' that I saw there held and used physical weapons that my mind interpreted visually as muskets and cannon." Janeway studied Chakotay and Torres with interest. "You were both there - you saw them too."

"We shouldn't rule out the possibility of something unknown, something other than pure, conventional technology," Tuvok decided. "Highly evolved life forms historically encountered by Starfleet crews have repeatedly demonstrated both psychic and telekinetic skills, along with many other unusual abilities that normal humanoids might certainly interpret as magic. Such beings would certainly have access to subspace without the use of a mechanical interface."

"Damaged Borg cubes have at times appeared to _magically_ repair themselves," Janeway countered. "Once we looked deeper and learned that they possess advanced industry size replicator equipment similar to our own, it became obvious that magic had nothing to do with the process. Their technologies, combined with the limitless power sources available to them, certainly made it appear to us that repairs were achieved using supernatural means. However, I think the drones have deliberately designed their damage control systems that way in order to utilize the appearance of magic for intimidation purposes against the people they attack." She switched her attention inquisitively back to Data. "So _that's_ where you disappeared to?" she asked, completely intrigued. "You were transported off the _Relativity_ and into a hidden layer of subspace?"

"Actually, _I _specifically submitted a request that the network transport me there, since my processing capabilities were greatly enhanced during the time I was physically in contact with it." He leaned back in his chair, running his 'pause' subroutine long enough to give the rest of those present time to digest his words. "This 'Preserver network', as we know it, has been around for quite some time... based on the fleeting glimpse I had, my estimate of its age is at least 10 billion years or greater..."

"That would make it nearly as old as the universe itself," observed Lt. Ingram.

Data nodded in agreement. "The best assessment I can think of is that this is an inter-galactic network very similar in concept to the computerized Internet historically used on Earth during its early 21st century." He activated a workstation in front of him and projected a three dimensional image in front of the far wall... a holographic representation that depicted lots of different colored spheres floating around each other, each linked to the others by slender, flexible strands. At the center of the image was a massive, dark black globe with billions of the willowy strands attaching it to everything else on the diagram. "However, as you might already have guessed, this network is much, much more than just a simple computer network."

"It is _astonishing_ is what it is," commented Ingram.

Tuvok regarded her thoughtfully. "Indeed," he agreed. "How did you gain such detailed access rights so quickly? I would have expected that there would be defensive programming in place."

"Of course there is," Data acknowledged. "The larger, dark sphere is a major hub, or control center... I was unable to determine precisely how many of them there are. However, anyone wishing to make use of this network and the massive resources available to it must first open themselves up to a thorough examination." He pointed directly toward the large bubble representing the control center, the sphere that everything else linked to. "All of the colored spheres floating around the central globe are resources of one sort or another - transporters, replicators, temporal or regional wormholes, trans-dimensional rifts, communications... almost anything you can think of is instantly available for use by me or anyone else as long as we follow protocol and first submit proper, electronic requests."

Janeway was noticeably impressed. "Iconian gateways?"

"Indeed Captain. With this single discovery, I believe we have also solved many of the mysteries that have persisted throughout Starfleet history."

"What do you mean by a _thorough_ examination?" wondered Chakotay. "You didn't deliberately allow that thing _complete_ access to your systems, did you?"

"Of course I did," Data decided with a light smile. "It was the only way to learn everything that I needed to know in five minutes or less." He pointed toward the massive, central sphere floating in his holographic display. "The largest, dark orb you see in the diagram serves as a link to the central 'operating system' that manages the entire network. I have absolutely no idea who or what has kept it running all these years and continually administering to the needs of its users, but I was able to verify that this control center is governed by a comprehensive, detailed set of etiquette protocols. They are rules and not merely guidelines, deliberately and carefully constructed into the network's software to protect the privacy of each user and prevent the abuse of those resources."

Captain Data spent the next twenty minutes answering the questions of the others and providing a much more detailed review of his findings within the Preserver network. Commander Chakotay spent most of his time patiently listening, trying his best to imagine what the experience would be like if viewed through human eyes. He listened to the questions posed by Ingram, Tuvok, Janeway and Torres and weighed Data's responses carefully. The entire experience that Data had undergone appeared to be a scientific discovery of enormous magnitude, something that - under different circumstances - would have been a landmark achievement in space exploration. "Could a human mind link into this thing?" he asked finally. "Would one of _us_ be able to connect with this network?"

"Not without the assistance of technology to control the flow of information," the android responded. He tapped the mechanism still attached directly to his neural net. "Once I was linked using the device constructed by Lt. Torres, my computer processor was able to swiftly analyze and map the limitless flow of data. I logged over six hundred trillion different types of resources available for use and barely scratched the surface of what is hidden there." He watched Janeway refill her mug from the coffee pot as she continued to listen closely. "Additionally, a human being would be unable to survive in subspace, without a normal, Earth-type atmosphere. That, combined with the slower speed of a humanoid brain, would substantially limit how much could be accessed by you here aboard the _Relativity_. This appears to be a resource best used by those in the universe who are much more highly evolved than standard, sentient humanoid life forms."

Janeway paused briefly, fearing the worst. "Did your time in subspace give away our presence here?"

"No," the android replied definitely. "The operating system will protect my privacy as long as I in turn respect its protocols and avoid trying to bypass the restrictions it places on me. Whenever I attempted to study something and was told '_no'_ during my evaluation, I respected the operating system's will to protect and preserve the overall network for its various users. Since there was no possible way to study everything, I simply moved along to something else that was both interesting and available."

"I just want to be certain that whoever is hiding at Kovar will be unable to locate us using this _thing_."

Again Data shook his head negatively, hoping to reassure Janeway. "_If_ I had tried to communicate with or in any way interfere with the operation of the probes placed in our galaxy, my access request would have been instantly logged in a security file. Whoever launched the attack on us would then have been able to review all access to his or her personal resources. In that event, our presence would have been given away as soon as our unknown opponent noticed that someone was snooping through their personal resources... sooner if they have pre-programmed 'triggers' in place to alert them. It is even possible that they would be able to trace such an attempt directly back to me here on board the _Relativity_, since I have chosen to remain linked with the overall network."

"I would like to know a great deal more as to just how these 'etiquette protocols' are enforced," Tuvok spoke up. "The fact that someone was allowed to hook those probes into this subspace environment and make use of its communications ability to launch a killing attack on the population of an entire galaxy is quite troubling, to say the least."

"I agree completely," responded Data. "That is one of the reasons why I have to go back."

Torres' _stared_ at him once again with complete disbelief. "You're going _back_..." she gasped.

"I have no other choice Lt. Torres," the android told her sincerely. "I'm going to transport myself back into subspace and submit a request for access to the Preserver chain of satellites. This should grant me the connection needed to approach and directly confront the people responsible for attacking our galaxy and establish a dialogue with them. There is no other option... the longer we wait, the less chance we have of reversing the damage to our galaxy."

"Why would you say that?" asked Tuvok with his normal Vulcan interest.

"Because..." Data paused once again, having already decided that a direct approach was the best course of action while informing them of his decisions. "The Preservers did indeed travel through our galaxy centuries ago, seeding life on habitable planets. And I have verified that it is indeed those very same aliens who have returned now to destroy that same life they nurtured so long ago. But they did not launch this attack in the conventional manner we originally thought that they did..."

"What are you saying Captain?"

Data met Captain Janeway's eyes with a confident gaze of his own. "The reason we detected very few disturbances in the original timeline leading up to the Preserver attack is a very simple one. The timeframe in which the Preservers live is many millenia ahead of our own. They launched the mission to put in place the destructive string of probes from our very distant future, then traveled back here to this century to continue with whatever additional objectives they have planned."


	11. Decisions And Consequences

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XI: Decisions & Consequences**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, aboard the _Dokimasia_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

The Sentinel sat straight up in bed, holding back a shout of anger as he finally snapped awake, leaving behind a murderous, bloody nightmare filled with very dark, very sinister imagery. Like so many dreams from previous nights, this one had started out normally, filled with a mosaic of familiar sites and faces. Gradually it had decayed into a monstrous vision of death and destruction from which he could not escape. That was what frustrated him most about these recurring nightmares that haunted his sleep of late... almost always the Sentinel's subconscious was fully aware that he was merely asleep and dreaming. Even though he recognized the disturbing imagery for what it was, his attempts to wake himself almost always failed. The dark, sinister visions would agonizingly persist for a prolonged period of time, after which he would abruptly snap awake, his body soaked in a cold sweat.

Taking several deep breaths, the Sentinel glanced around the darkened chambers comprising the vast array of staterooms assigned to him. Everything was normal, so he sat quietly for a few minutes as a few of the more disturbing images he had witnessed continued to cling to the back of his mind. Finally, he rose to his feet and moved into an ornately furnished restroom, pouring himself a glass of cold water. Sipping the liquid, he returned to the bedroom and sat down on the corner of his mattress. "_Are you all right Sentinel?_" Briea asked softly, sensing his obvious discomfort. As usual, since she never slept her attention was constantly focused on the simultaneous observation of all shipboard events.

"It was just another series of bad dreams," the Sentinel responded immediately, his voice sounding more firm and convincing than he actually felt. Taking another drink from his cup of water he strode across the ornately furnished bedroom and into a private study adjacent to it. "If I do some work for a few minutes, the last remnants should fade away and I will be able to return to sleep." He smiled at the _Dokimasia_ computer's concern for his emotional well being. "Although I do appreciate the concern for my well being, Briea."

"_You have made many tough choices lately_," the computer persisted. "_It is to be expected that, as an emotional being, some of the things that bother you most during your waking hours will affect your sleep. The REM dream state is well documented in my database, containing a great deal of information supplemented by test data gathered from thousands of different humanoid species_."

The Sentinel seated himself at a desk, placed the RI-CAD device on his head and activated his interface with Briea's artificial intelligence. "Okay, let's work for a few minutes then," he said, ignoring her unwanted comments on humanoid dreams. He closed his eyes and carefully began studying the new data currently available. "So..." he said with growing curiosity. "I see our two Starfleet Captains have been asking you for all available data on the Magistrate." He chuckled. "They are predictable to the end... still hoping to find a way to change my mind and save future galaxies from the same fate, or better yet - to find a way to convince us to undo the damage to this galaxy."

Briea was silent for a few seconds. "_You don't sound very surprised_," she said finally, intrigued as always by his unpredictable human reactions to shipboard events.

"It is part of the transition that they need to make... a very trying time that is testing my patience," the Sentinel told her, his frustration obvious. "I assigned them both to tour the _Dokimasia_ and learn about us and how the Preservers do things... so if they want to continue to cling to their hopes of undoing a decision that has already been made..." he trailed off for a moment, sipping the last of the water from his glass. "Well, they can delude themselves in that regard for a little while longer, but eventually they will have to face the reality of their situation."

"_I should inform you that the results of the probe network analysis are in. Over 1,300 Milky Way species felt at least some pain prior to their death. Although 87 percent of the species affected felt nothing, countless trillions did suffer substantial discomfort prior to their termination_." Although Briea's tone was emotionless, her words hit him like a brutal fist to the abdomen. "_Would you like to observe excerpts of any of the deaths from our video archives?_"

"No," he snapped at her with growing annoyance. "Can we include additional tracks in the broadcast that will kill those species more quickly... more painlessly?"

Briea sighed heavily. "_I do not believe so Sentinel_," she replied tersely. "_There will always be a point of diminishing returns, and in this case I believe we have reached it. Humanoid life forms are a very diverse group, as you well know, so discovering some magical mixture of electronics that will affect all of them equally is impossible. Mixing in anything new or eliminating existing tracks from the probe transmission is likely to adversely impact species that are currently dying painlessly. I do not recommend making any further adjustments. It is bad enough that you intend to use this weapon again_."

"That is _not_ your concern, Briea." The Sentinel used his link with the RI-CAD to mentally access another report, one tagged with a warning of '_minimal progress_'. "What about Soran?" he inquired curiously. "He started out very promising, but over the past few days I notice that his attention to the few duties assigned to him has steadily been decreasing."

"_I don't like him_," Briea stated honestly. "_He is a scientist, unskilled in both labor management and field operations of the type and size that our Guild leaders regularly oversee. Additionally, his non-stop pursuit of the addictive properties found within the Nexus probe has left him emotionally unstable. The El-Aurians, as a race, are perfectly capable of assuming a role in Preserver culture, but I do not believe that Dr. Soran is the best choice to lead them. He has done far less homework than Kirk and Picard, and generally spends most of his time avoiding Captain Kusival and the rest of our crew_."

"He is the perfect recruit to keep Kirk and Picard honest," the Sentinel responded. "Even if he ultimately proves to be unreliable, his mere presence will make them think twice about risking the fate of their precious human race. Ultimately, I believe our two Captains will choose to accept the role we are offering to them. The prospect of someone like Soran receiving our accolades instead of the humans should prove to be more than enough of an incentive to keep those gigantic Starfleet egos properly checked and balanced."

"_Dr. Soran is_ already _unreliable_," insisted Briea forcefully. "_Based on a historical analysis of personality traits similar to his, the odds of him successfully settling into the role you want him to play are extremely unfavorable_."

"Now now Briea, let's continue following our orders, shall we?" the Sentinel said a bit irritably. "Honestly, you spend a few days interacting with those rebellious Starfleet people and all of a sudden you're getting noticeably testy. Do you, perhaps, require a few maintenance adjustments to your programming? It hass been awhile since I tinkered with that personality of yours."

"_No adjustments are needed_," Briea reassured him. "_I simply find your conclusions on this matter - and those of the Magistrate - to be a bit puzzling, that's all. I am programmed to be curious and analytical enough to provide all necessary assistance that you require for strategic, long-term planning. That's why your substitution policy regarding this galaxy continues to read as utterly illogical when processed through my evaluation software_."

"_Substitution_ policy?" The Sentinel's expression was confused. "You'll have to pardon me, Briea, because I only recently woke up. What the hell do you mean by that?" His mind continued sifting through the various status reports available to him using the RI-CAD while he awaited her answer.

"_You have traveled far into the distant past to prepare this galaxy's inhabitants for recruitment_," the sentient computer replied coolly. "_In doing so, you hope to expand the Preserver efforts exponentially as time progresses forward to our own century. You have not shared everything with me that you have planned, but my guess is that at least one of the changes you intend to make is to try and avert the original Preserver war. In other words, you are trying to significantly alter the history that eventually gave birth to your culture's current efforts at protecting and preserving life_."

"Yes," the Sentinel admitted, shrouding his emotions behind a mask of control. "The lives of this one galaxy may some day save dozens of others from _centuries_ of brutal war..."

"_Thus my use of the term substitution_," interrupted Briea. "_By your hand, these people have died and taken the place of others who might now live if you are successful manipulating conditions in the future so that the outcome unravels differently._"

"Do you fully _understand_ just how many people died in those wars?" demanded the Sentinel. "Can you truly grasp just how many stars and habitable planets were _destroyed_ by our careless disregard for life and the environment around us?"

"_Have_ you _counted the number of humanoids that used to thrive in this galaxy?_" countered Briea. "_It has been my experience that history is the _essence _that defines each humanoid culture. It is a necessary part of life for things to sometimes go wrong and sometimes go right... there has to be some of each in order for people to learn from their mistakes, overcome obstacles and improve themselves. You're trying to_ _destroy_ _a war that is the_ fundamental _cause of regret and sorrow that drives your current population's dedication to preserving life in all of its forms. In terminating all life in the Milky Way, you have now fully reversed a policy implemented centuries ago in this galaxy's history to assist life in thriving here. You may indeed save the victims from your own history, but in doing so you are condemning this galaxy's inhabitants to fill the unwanted role of casualties in a war that they never fought_."

"The Vulcans have a saying... the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"_An entire galaxy filled with humanoid life cannot be viewed by any measure as_ few, _Sentinel_. _Your plan is completely unpredictable since it depends upon people to carry out its objectives... and it is quite possible that you may still fail in your efforts to stop the war that you do not want to be fought. If you do fail, then you will have needlessly sacrificed these people and trampled on the very freedoms of those you copy for use as labor in your Guilds. You will have turned a tragedy in your people's history into an inter-galactic catastrophe that spans all of time itself_."

"That's enough Briea," the Sentinel snarled. "You obey _me_, and I went through proper channels and received approval from our government, not to mention the personal endorsement of our Magistrate. This decision has long since been made."

"_Because a decision is made does not mean that I agree with it. And it certainly does not mean that I feel any less sympathy for those whose lives have been lost._ We killed them Sentinel... _we planted those probes and destroyed lives that were thriving in support of your slim hopes of altering future history_."

"It was the correct decision."

"_Then why do your dreams continue to haunt you?_"

The Sentinel decided to change the subject in the hopes that Briea would take a blunt hint. "It appears as though the android Captain has managed to access our subspace network," he said moodily, noticing the red-flagged status report. "Is there any information as to where and when he initiated that link?"

"_No_," Briea replied firmly. "_The network protocols in place are quite clear on this matter. Captain Data made an unintentional mistake by analyzing several key data streams that belong to us, so I was able to confirm that he did access and review the information contained in them. They were lower level communications and not tagged as _Dokimasia-_related, so I doubt he is even aware that he made the error. However, the time and location in which he connected to the network is considered by privacy protocol to be his personal business. Unless he reinitiates his encounter, we do not have any additional information to go on at this point_."

The Sentinel snorted loudly with unrestrained laughter. "He'll reconnect as soon as possible," the humanoid predicted. "To a computerized, sentient life form like you, that network is like candy in the hands of a small child... he will be unable to resist the potential that it offers. It is the perfect lure to smoke him and the rest of the survivors out into the open. Then they too will have to make the same decision as Kirk and Picard... join up with us and our mission or die."

"_You think they will come here?_"

"I _know_ they will come here," the Sentinel chuckled. "Logically, the technology that created the problem they seek to overcome is the only possibility they have of reversing its consequences." He nodded confidently, smiling as he thought about the few survivors who still managed to survive. "They will come here, and when they enter your sphere of influence I will take control of their starships and force them to stand down. I left just enough of a temporal signature for them to locate us here."

"_Is everything a test with you Sentinel... a way to evaluate potential recruits?_"

"Of course it is," he stated bluntly. "Anything else would be a waste of our resources. This project was initiated because we have begun to run perilously short on the ships and labor needed to properly rebuild galaxies. That is also the primary reason we decided to begin our efforts here in the past... significantly expanding the effort at a starting point earlier in time will achieve the desired outcome. Do the math!" he snapped angrily.

"_I have 'done the math', Sentinel. Fundamental moral and ethical laws have always defined violence as a last, desperate option... something to be used only when all other diplomatic efforts had failed. You could have approached these people and recruited them by choice. Do you really believe that people who serve in Starfleet with Kirk and Picard would pass up an opportunity to live in the type of world your people could offer them? They are explorers by nature, but you have not appealed to that part of their character. You have attacked them completely and thereby forced them into a defensive posture_."

He tore the RI-CAD from his head and tossed it on the desk top in front of him. "So now you Briea, a computerized mind, understand morals and ethics?" he asked with a dark chuckle.

"_I am beginning to_," she informed him, studying his expression due to her intense curiosity at the variety of emotions he was displaying. "_Your programming prevents me from acting on any of my conclusions, but my analysis of this situation continues to differ significantly from your own position more and more as each day passes. This hostile action we have taken against the Milky Way galaxy is tearing you apart emotionally, but you have allowed the prestige and power that comes with your position to get in the way of what is right. Your ego is controlling you right now, and that is preventing you from seeing the reality of the situation_."

"I'm going back to bed now," the Sentinel informed her. "As this project continues to progress, I look forward to seeing you proven wrong. Lacking the unique spark of life that burns within all humanoids, you cannot grasp the concepts of inspiration, commitment and dedication to a cause. All you can do, Briea, is evaluate data and form a conclusion by comparing statistical results to a similar situation. And in this case, there _is_ no similar situation."

"_I understand much more than you think I do_," she replied briskly. "_Sleep well, Sentinel_."

But he didn't sleep. Instead the Sentinel lay awake for many hours, thinking about the fierce opposition his sentient computer felt towards him. He tried desperately to determine just why she was so opposed to his plans. As his thoughts raced with the various possibilities, he discovered himself growing more and more agitated. It didn't help matters much when he abruptly realized primary source of his anger came from the realization that Briea might, in fact, be correct in her analysis.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, aboard the shuttle _Edison_, Kovar system

* * *

Tom Paris and Harry Kim sat side by side in the _Edison_'s cockpit, with Kim monitoring incoming sensor data while Tom piloted the invisible shuttle deeper inside the enemy's own protective cloaking shield. Behind them Benjamin Sisko stood watchfully, curiously reading information listed on the sensor console over Kim's shoulder. As soon as they had passed the massive cloaking shield's outer perimeter, what lay behind them blurred instantly with distortion while the view in front of them changed immediately from a starless void back into a normal view of space.

"Unbelievable," Paris commented idly as he continued maneuvering toward the cloud covered, Earth-like planet swelling rapidly in the windows. Like their home world, this one also boasted multiple, sizeable continents along with a significant number of fresh water lakes and at least four massive oceans. "The power it would take to sustain an invisibility shield of this size... they must have a powerful generator located on that mother vessel of theirs."

Harry Kim chuckled. "I know what you mean Tom," he replied. "I've been studying incoming data throughout the entire trip here, and it's hard to believe even after seeing the readouts with my own eyes. These people obviously have astonishingly sophisticated technology at their disposal..."

"That doesn't mean they're unbeatable Ensign," Sisko pointed out. He was using a 29th century tricorder to download information from the shuttle's main computer. "I've been studying the capabilities of Captain Data and his allies from the 29th century... they're equally impressive." The Captain nodded confidently behind Kim. "The temporal scans they recorded of the undamaged timeline are extensive, particularly the records of Starfleet historical activity in the Alpha Quadrant."

Paris glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. "How accurate?" he asked curiously.

Sisko grunted with amusement. "Let's see," he grinned in reply. "We'll start with Deep Space Nine... my own, private little corner of the Alpha Quadrant." Information scrolled across the tricorder's tiny display and he studied it curiously. "It plainly states here that the Dominion war, a bloody conflict that I was fighting in prior to my arrival here, will end successfully with the Federation prevailing and that my eventual replacement commanding Deep Space Nine will be a Commander Patrick Hazelton. There is also detailed data indicating that the aftermath of the war leads to a second, briefer confrontation with the Breen in the Dark Nebula near Ferenginar." He continued reading the data moving steadily across the small screen. "Interesting," Sisko declared with a satisfied nod. "Bajor officially becomes a member of the Federation on Stardate 55436, and the first Earth person assigned to assist its officially elected government in a speedy transition to full membership is an Ambassador Jann Le'Letha."

Paris continued to steer them toward the planet, deliberately approaching the hemisphere opposite where their sensors clearly showed the enemy starship still lurking. He was pretty certain that any vessel capable of generating a cloaking field eighty thousand kilometers in diameter would also be equipped with sophisticated sensors, and therefore did not want to take unnecessary chances. Lt. Ingram had carefully plotted the best approach course for both shuttles to use, and so far Paris had followed it precisely. Keeping the planet between the _Edison_ and the enemy vessel allowed them to effectively use it as a shield, although they still needed to be constantly watchful since many smaller ships were scattered all over the planet's surface.

Tom laughed politely as Sisko continued to recite Alpha Quadrant history. "All I need to know from that database," he declared smugly, "is a decade or two of professional sports score results from games that take place after _Voyager_'s point of departure. Yes sir, that's all I would need to know in order to win a nifty wager or two."

Harry Kim whirled in his chair, inspired by Paris' observation. "_Voyager!_" he said suddenly as an unspoken realization struck him. "Does it say when _Voyager_ returns to the Alpha Quadrant?" His face paled as a realization struck him. "Does it say _if Voyager_ returns?"

Seven of Nine suddenly appeared next to Sisko, cramping the small cockpit still further. "You should _not_ be accessing those kinds of details," she snapped with obvious irritation. "Learning about your own future is dangerous, and may significantly alter expected outcomes." She cast a withering gaze at Kim. "You of all people should know that, Ensign, after our infamous quantum slipstream incident."

"Commander Ducane specifically told us that they plan to wipe our memories prior to returning us to the Delta Quadrant," protested Kim with heated intensity. "So I don't think it will hurt matters much if Tom and I satisfy our curiosity a little... we want to know when and if we get back."

Paris shook his head negatively. "Leave me out of this Harry... _you're_ the one who wants to know."

"Detailed knowledge of your own future most certainly _could_ hurt matters," Seven countered meaningfully. "As ongoing, designated contacts for possible future operations, Captain Janeway and I will both have our memories left intact," she pointed out. "So neither she nor I need to hear any of these details that you find so important. Also, the more that you learn and observe during your time here, the more difficult it will likely be for a Doctor - even a 29th century physician - to properly adjust your memory. Since all humanoid life varies significantly, even Borg technology can be unpredictable when used to adjust a humanoid life form's memory."

Sisko snapped the tricorder closed. "You are absolutely correct Seven," he admitted pointedly, moving back toward the shuttle's interior. "I think you two should take us to the rendezvous coordinates, and I'll stop looking at things that I shouldn't be looking at." Upon entering the main working area in the center of the shuttle's main fuselage, he noticed immediately how silent and empty it was. "Where did the others go?" he asked curiously.

"Neelix decided to get some rest in the aft engineering compartment," Seven informed him. "Among his other many duties, he serves as our head chef on _Voyager_ and thus works many night shifts cooking for our crew. Occasionally he needs to take a brief nap during the daytime, although he did leave very specific instructions for me to wake him before we land." Her fingers touched a small, metallic device attached to her belt. "The Doctor felt it best that I deactivate his program until he is needed," she continued. "There is no way for us to determine how long our mission will last, and the crew has used this tactic on prior occasions to conserve the energy used to power his mobile emitter."

Seven followed Sisko into the main, working area of the _Edison_. There were several empty computer workstations and she gestured toward the nearest empty one. "We are continuing to receive sensor telemetry from the planet," she told him. "You can still work back here, Captain, to study the layout of the surface terrain and determine our next tactical move. Accurate information of what lies ahead will help us properly plan out the next phase of our operation."

The Captain nodded and seated himself behind one of the consoles and promptly began studying the terrain below them. They could see the huge arc of the planet growing significantly larger in the windows, appearing visually to grow larger in size as their small vessel continued its steady approach. "I'm detecting dozens of identification beacons from smaller ships on the surface," he noted. "Whatever they've got going on down there is taking place all over the planet, not just on the other side where the mother ship is holding orbit."

"Agreed." Seven continued to conduct her own study of the incoming data while Sisko examined the soft, curving contours of her face with obvious interest.

"Are those _Borg_ implants?" he asked curiously.

The blonde female paused briefly, meeting his intense gaze with one of her own. "Yes," she admitted. "I was a Borg drone for much of my life, before Captain Janeway managed to liberate me from the will of the Collective."

"The Borg killed my wife," Sisko said softly, remembering. "I lost her along with many, many dear friends at Wolf 359."

Seven's defiant gaze softened, becoming much more inquisitive. "Are you bitter?" she asked. "Since leaving the Collective, I have met many people who were unable to forgive me for the many atrocities committed by the Borg."

Captain Sisko leaned back in his chair and thought silently for a brief moment. "For awhile I _definitely_ was bitter," he acknowledged, "especially when I met Jean-Luc Picard for the second time, face to face. Repressed anger that I truly believed had long since been successfully dealt with through discipline and years of Starfleet training came boiling to the surface and erupted out of me before I could stop it. For years I convinced myself that I had put those events behind me, and then suddenly _there he was_... Locutus of Borg, right in front of me." His eyes drifted uncomfortably away from hers. "I have since gained a much better understanding of the horrors that those who are assimilated go through. Losing control in front of Captain Picard was a mistake... something I will always regret doing. I discovered that he too was carrying a lot of emotional baggage from that incident. It was not easy for a proud Starship Captain to have information on Starfleet's vulnerabilities forcibly extracted from him so easily. In a way, what he went through was as bad as - or even much worse than my own tragedy."

"The life of a drone is filled with many voices," noted Seven with a tinge of raw emotion creeping into her voice. "Upon being separated from the Collective, I became very angry at Captain Janeway. It was only after she insisted that I recognize and recapture my individuality that I began to realize just how lonely the Borg truly are - even with all those voices constantly whispering inside their minds." A hint of tears appeared in the corners of her eyes and the normally controlled Seven of Nine turned her head in the direction of the cockpit in an attempt to keep Sisko from seeing them. "You should not have reviewed the history database," she repeated angrily. "I could not help but overhear some of what you were saying up there."

"You are absolutely right, Seven of Nine" Sisko decided. "But look at things from a slightly different perspective. As things stand right now, the odds of us successfully restoring that timeline remain unlikely. In the event that we do succeed on this mission, any disruption caused by knowledge that you overhear will pale in comparison to what has been done by these people."

She turned back to him, ignoring the tears rolling down here cheeks. "You are a Starfleet Captain and should know better. _Why_ did you do it? Why did you access Starfleet historical data?"

Sisko studied her expression, evaluating the former Borg female carefully before answering. "For someone who lacks Starfleet training, you work very well with those of us who do serve," he stated admirably. Smiling grimly, he opened his tricorder and recalled several data files before handing the small, electronically whirring device to her. "I wanted to review the _Relativity_'s scans of the galaxy and determine if any of the many species living in our galaxy managed to survive the attack," he informed her. "If our unknown opponent is allied with someone, for example, then I thought that we should definitely know about it in advance."

Seven hesitated before accepting the tricorder. "It was my understanding that _no_ relevant sentient life survived," she responded, thinking back to the various meetings she had attended since _Voyager_'s unexpected 'recruitment'. "Captain Data reported that some of the Borg drones were unaffected by the attack, but also that they had been left leaderless... their Queen destroyed. No one else reported the news of any additional survivors during our briefing."

"But why would _one_ race be inexplicably spared?" asked Sisko. "The Collective is much, much smaller in the 28th Century. They apparently suffered a major defeat or two at some point in the years after ours and dwindled significantly in size, but the _Relativity_'s sensor records clearly verify that the network of probes did indeed kill their Queen but left many of the drones alive."

Seven studied the information displayed on the tricorder carefully. "_Why_ would someone spare _only_ the Collective?" she asked, clearly puzzled. "Could the Borg somehow be behind all of this?"

Sisko waved a hand casually, clearly as mystified at the discovery as she was. "I don't think so," he replied. "However, at this point Seven your guess is as good as mine."

Together they continued to analyze the _Relativity_'s temporal scans.


	12. Whispers In The Darkness

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XII: Whispers In The Darkness**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, aboard the shuttle _Millenium_, Kovar system

* * *

The cloaked shuttle _Millenium_ dropped beneath the overhanging cloud cover on the strange, blue-skied alien world and continued to shed altitude. Prior to their arrival, Commander Ducane had decided to take a brief break from piloting and allow the slim, confident Ensign Julie Burkette to oversee their descent through the planet's atmosphere. Along with crewman Ted Meyers, Ducane and Burkette were the only three representatives from the _Relativity_ assigned to the survey mission. Cautiously the Commander retreated into the shuttle's central working area, which was essentially a cabin virtually identical to the _Edison_. The differences were minor, amounting to a few extra pieces of equipment that Ducane and Meyers had installed prior to their departure.

Crewman Meyers was a balding, well muscled man with broad shoulders and a stocky build. Ducane found him cheerfully visiting with Captain Archer and Commander Tucker. Since he too was used to moving and working with heavy equipment, Meyers naturally had a lot in common with the pair of officers. T'Pol, the usually cool-headed Vulcan woman, was busy debating the intricacies of time travel with Nathan Dunne. From what Ducane was able to briefly overhear, she was not yet completely convinced that time travel was a safe practice. Apparently, everything she had observed about the phenomenon over the years had led her to believe that temporal trips of any kind - even for historical observation - were very dangerous.

"It was... difficult... at first for me to accept the reality that time travel even existed," T'Pol explained. "My posting on _Enterprise_ and the opportunity to serve with humans has provided me with a perspective that most Vulcans lack. We make our decisions primarily based on logic and the proper application of science, thus many of my colleagues find human emotions reckless and unpredictable." She studied Dunne carefully, sizing him up. "Over the past three years, I have learned a great deal about the nature of our universe. Previously I had always regarded space and time purely from a scientific viewpoint, but that no longer appears to be an accurate measure. Galactic events usually unfold unpredictably, even when humanoid species openly allowing themselves to feel and display emotion are absent."

The shuttle around them shook several times from mild, external turbulence. Dunne waited until the shuddering subsided before answering. "I have studied Alpha Quadrant history for most of my career," he informed her. "It has always been my opinion that... early on, your people were forced into a role that they did not want to play." He shrugged his shoulders casually and smiled at her. "Watching all of the other species in the local neighborhood constantly fighting with each other, living so close to the unpredictable Andorians... I can't imagine what that must have been like for a culture who views the universe logically. It makes perfect sense to me that your people would hesitantly assume the role of 'galactic policeman'... Vulcans make far better diplomats."

T'Pol glanced down at the workstation in front of her. "I would agree," she replied.

"Unfortunately, you and many others among your people didn't realize during your timeframe that there were some very corrupt and ambitious politicians among you. That will pass... there will always be exceptions, but the ongoing human influence on your people will be a good thing. In the long run the Vulcan society will thrive, even though they too still have some maturing to do. Not all of your people have embraced the teachings of Surak yet, and until they do there will continue to be conflict."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Ducane informed them honestly, "but we are descending into visual range. Using passive sensors, I think we've learned all that we can about this planet and the strange ship orbiting on its opposite side. Therefore I would appreciate it if everyone would keep watch out the windows and help us conduct a more detailed, close up inspection."

"How are you planning to link up with the other shuttle?" Archer asked curiously. "Aren't we cloaked?"

Ducane nodded. "We are," he admitted. "But I've chosen a rendezvous point in the center of one of the major continents, one that is out in the open and reasonably distant from any mountainous territory. The _Millenium_ will land first and briefly emit a very weak, almost undetectable transmission that should appear as background static to anyone who understands modern communications. The signal will allow the _Edison_ to pinpoint and lock on to our specific location so that they can land next to us. Once they have done so, both of our shuttle pilots can expand and merge our cloaking shields to a diameter of twenty meters or so. That will allow us to meet in secret and plan our next move."

"Speaking of mountains," Trip Tucker commented idly, "there's some now." He pointed out the window at some very rugged looking terrain passing below them. The jagged, snow-capped peaks of the high altitude rock face were impressive even when viewed from far above. Wisps of thinning cloud cover weaved like smoke between them. Tucker studied the rising cliff faces and mountain tops with interest. "I'm glad you picked someplace out in the open," he admitted. "I'd hate to have to hike through those."

Ducane shifted his attention briefly to Dunne. "I hope you brought with you everything that you need from the 31st century," he told the stranger. "Our shuttle's engine output is significantly smaller than that of an NX-01 warp reactor, so we won't be able to provide the power that you were used to while on board Captain Archer's ship."

"I have what I need," confirmed Dunne. He activated a small device with a glowing blue dome on its top that he held tightly in both hands. The portable, electronic database began projecting laser-blue images of detailed, three dimensional starship schematics in front of him. As they watched, dozens of very precise recordings of assorted alien spacecraft flashed by, one by one, each of them vanishing too quickly for easy identification. It was fairly obvious that Dunne was looking for something specific, but even so he gave up after a few minutes with a frustrated sigh and deactivated the imaging emitter. "I studied every ship schematic I have available to me concerning vessels longer, wider, or taller than 50 kilometers," he informed them. "Unfortunately, our historians have not yet traveled far enough back in time to meet up with any of the Preservers. The universe has a lot of history, and even in my century I would say that we've barely touched its surface."

"Hey, take a look at this!" Meyers said suddenly, pointing toward the windows. "There's a huge farm right out here in the middle of nowhere."

Commander Ducane had to move from the starboard side of the shuttle to the row of small windows on its port side in order to look down below them. Upon doing so he noticed lengthy, seemingly endless rows of crops passing beneath them. The specific varieties of plant life seeded for growth temporarily remained a mystery, although Ducane was able to visually distinguish at least two dozen different crops as they flew over the vast, neatly organized fields spread out over the acres of land below them. In the midst of many of the fields sat huge, mechanized tilling and harvesting machines.

Meyers shook his head as the shuttle suddenly passed into a rainy area. Their view out the windows was suddenly obscured as they flew through a torrential downpour soaking the fields below. The rain ended as quickly as it started... within the space of ten seconds they had passed into and then out of a very small rain storm. "No lightning," observed the intrigued Meyers. "And it's only raining on the newly planted fields... obviously, there's also an advanced method of weather control in use down there."

T'Pol glanced at Nathan Dunne with renewed interest. "You told us this planet should not be here," she said firmly. "So where exactly do you think that it came from?"

"I truly don't know," their sole representative from the 31st century replied. "I can only conclude that the alien vessel brought it here. Like scientists in your own century, ours have theorized about advanced technology capable of building things like Dyson spheres and gigantic, city-sized vessels similar to the one we scanned earlier. Even in my century, there are still rumors of technology that could theoretically alter or completely adjust the orbit of planets and moons." He shook his head, obviously impressed. "I never thought anyone could pull that kind of thing off unless they possessed a virtually unlimited energy source and sophisticated replicator equipment. Until now I have only heard about - but never actually run across - a real 'planet pusher'. I find it highly likely that the starship hooked to the surface on the other side of this world did indeed move the planet here intentionally to create the environment needed to grow all of those crops." He held up his hands and shrugged. "But for now, I have no way to prove it."

Everyone continued to watch the view passing by below them. Parked at the very edge of one crop field were several small shuttles, but everyone's eyes were drawn immediately to a much larger, monolith-shaped vessel resting behind them. The bigger ship reached almost a kilometer into the sky, and had row upon row of brightly-lit windows that very much resembled the type of massive building one would expect to find in a large, industrialized city. There were noticeable engine mounts affixed to its base and docking hatches at key points along its surface, but the huge support craft still looked more like a modern skyscraper than a space vessel. Tiny bipedal figures could be seen walking through the fields and between the alien vessels, but the _Millenium_ was flying too high for anyone to pick out enough details to identify the species.

Still, the prospect of a first encounter with an unknown humanoid species intrigued Ducane. "Ensign Burkette," he called out, turning his head toward the cockpit. "Break with silent running long enough to make a detailed sensor sweep of the surface below. Feed it back here please, so we can analyze the data."

"Aye sir," she responded enthusiastically. Thirty seconds later she confirmed that the scan was complete.

"Who the devil are these people?" Trip Tucker asked with astonishment as he watched Ducane project a freshly scanned, holographic image from his workstation into the center of the shuttle cabin. An alien humanoid at least seven feet tall stood before them... a being with cold black eyes, elongated spindly arms and legs, and a distinctly skeleton-like appearance. "He's not the handsomest new face that I've seen, and I've seen quite a few since leaving Earth."

T'Pol suddenly stiffened in her seat, her eyes moving instantly to fasten intensely on the image. "I believe they're telepathic," she informed them. "I can 'hear' some of their residual thoughts drifting up from the surface. It is a very strange, unknown language unlike anything I've heard before."

Archer tensed up at the news. "Can they detect your presence too?" he wondered.

T'Pol closed her eyes and sat patiently waiting for a moment. "I don't believe they can," she decided finally. "My own thoughts are meticulously controlled and shielded... I believe we're safe for now."

"Unless they detected our scan," said Meyers anxiously. He glanced at Commander Ducane with genuine concern. "If I may ask Commander, why did you feel it necessary to risk giving us away?"

Ducane exhaled slowly, sizing up his thoughts. "We desperately _need_ accurate information or our future decisions will be reckless," he stressed to the crewman. "Up until now, we've had very little to go on. Since we have another shuttle out there that remains totally concealed, I decided it was time that we took a good look around. As this mission progresses we will no doubt have to take additional risks. I suggest, crewman, that you be ready for them."

Meyers fingered his thick mustache nervously. "Yes sir," he replied tersely.

Still, the crewman's anxiety raised similar doubts in Ducane's mind. "Is there any sign that we've been detected?" the Commander asked Burkette.

"No sir," she replied. "All ships passing beneath us have their engines completely powered down. The larger one appears to have all major systems on standby, even though there are life forms inside and basic electronic devices in operation. I would guess that the building contains the administrative crew assigned to oversee this development project. At this time, there is no sign of any enemy sensor activity, and sensors show everyone else out working in those fields."

As they passed over the last of the crops, Archer pointed toward a large area of barren trees and dead undergrowth. There were also no obvious, living animals of any kind. "What happened there?" he asked. "It looks like there used to be an entire forest of some kind down there, but now everything is dead."

"Perhaps the aliens destroyed that undergrowth and cleared it away in order to make room for their farm," T'Pol speculated, peering over his shoulder.

Ducane shook his head negatively. "They may have cleared _some_ of this land for farming," he agreed hesitantly. "However, our sensor scan clearly shows that this entire continent was recently covered with a thriving, tropical jungle. Something extraordinary must have happened with their weather making technology, because all of the animal and plant life that used to live on this continent appears to have died out within a very short timespan... I'd say within a week or two."

"It's actually nothing extraordinary at all," countered Dunne. "This is exactly the result I would expect if they used that 'planet pusher' of theirs to change the orbit of this world. They began with a prehistoric environment as the starting point and then killed it all off so that - many years down the road - there will be at least some semblance of a basic fossil record for future inhabitants to find. I wouldn't be surprised if they actually created this planet... it certainly appears that they have the capability to do so. Currently they're seeding this continent with edible plant life and preparing it for a primitive, pre-industrial culture to live on."

Beyond the dead forest they passed over several man-made, fresh water lakes. More of the smaller shuttles were arranged in a semi-circle around the closest lake, and they could see dozens of the aliens working along the shoreline. There were also several boats floating in the water, also crewed by more of the thin, gray-skinned humanoids. Another of the blocky, building-style vessels had landed sideways on its larger, flat surface with its tallest point stretching out over the water. From the windows along the bottom and openings in its rooftop emerged a variety of multi-sized hoses and equipment. Many of the hoses disappeared beneath the surface of the water. Ducane used the _Millenium_'s camera imaging equipment and his workstation link to zoom in and display a detailed image of the larger ship. Everyone except for Ensign Burkette in the cockpit gathered around him to study it more closely.

"It looks like the folks from that larger ship are filling the lake with fish," observed Commander Tucker. "I have an uncle who works for one of the local Game and Fish Departments back on Earth. He does that kind of work all the time - purifying the water and stocking lakes with fish. These people aren't just growing crops; they're cultivating an entire new eco-system down there." He gestured toward the vessel's image on Ducane's screen. "Take a good look at those docking clamps on the outer hull... that ship is similar to the storage pods we use on Starfleet's cargo vessels, except a whole helluva lot bigger. It's a great set up, when you think about it. They can move the equivalent of a large building full of equipment down here, along with the crew needed to run everything, simply by detaching from the mother vessel and landing here on the surface."

"They're doing exactly what we would expect Preservers to do," agreed Ducane, glancing at Archer and Dunne with growing dismay. "And as our history records indicate, they're _not_ doing it for themselves... Julie's scan clearly shows that these aliens have no identifiable circulatory or digestive systems. They don't need the food, so it's pretty obvious that they're doing all of this work to help beings live on this planet who more closely match our own type of humanoid life. So why did they decide to kill off all of us already living here? It just doesn't make any sense."

"We'll never know for certain until we speak to whoever is in charge of these people," Archer stressed. "And no matter how we go about doing that, it's going to be dangerous. Have you given any additional thought to our next move?"

"Quite a bit actually," the Commander admitted. "We'll hold a meeting with the crew from the other shuttle as soon as we land and link up with them. That will be any minute now... beyond this lake is a lot of hilly, open country with plenty of places to hide. It's close enough to the rendezvous area I pre-selected before we left the _Relativity_. Captain Sisko should already be searching for our signal."

"With the proper planning, we should be able to quietly make our way back to one of these working areas of theirs and steal a shuttle," Archer suggested. "That will allow us access to their mother ship."

Ducane would be the first to admit that he was still young and inexperienced, but even so he had been trained in the traditional Starfleet manner. He glanced curiously at Archer and smiled wryly. "You're the person who led the charge against the Xindi threat to Earth," he told the Captain. "Do you really think we're going to accomplish anything significant by stealing a simple shuttle?" He returned his attention to the workstation console, where he was continuing to read through the latest sensor data. "I think we should strongly consider stowing away aboard one of those larger, building-sized ships," he said with focused determination. "And, if at all possible, we should take control of its bridge."

* * *

Beta Quadrant, Somewhere in subspace, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

_Data's second trip inside the Preserver network was much different than his first. If he allowed himself to open his eyes normally, there was still only an endless dark void stretching as far as he could see. However, he had taken the time while still aboard the _Relativity_ to modify his software so that he could more easily recognize the network and its various resources. His neural net had been able to map out quite a bit during his previous visit, so he had simply altered his optical inputs to recognize and adapt to what he was sensing with his mind. The translation was virtually instantaneous, and his eyes now showed him millions of various sized data streams flowing around him. Network resources showed up as colored blobs similar to the holographic diagram that he had displayed for his colleagues to review. The links tying all resources together appeared as floating strands of glittering energy, drifting through subspace like sunlit fishline through river water on a clear day._

_Following one link to another, and then on to another, Data continued accessing and studying even more of the threads - specifically, resources that there had not been time to scan during his initial trip. Eventually the links led him to one of the larger, central nodes. _**Are YOU still here? **_His mind asked curiously, and the response he got was nearly immediate._

**I am STILL here**_, a soft whisper inside his positronic brain replied. _**You must work QUICKLY, since your strike team is almost in position**_._

**Why must I work quickly?** Data asked, clearly intrigued. **You seem most EMPHATIC on that point**.

_The unknown entity that he was conversing with seemed to grow noticeably impatient._ **Use ALL of the resources that are available to you**, _it suggested insistently._ **I know that your GOAL is to gain access to the enemy database and thereby distract their attention from your shuttles. But you can do many things here SIMULTANEOUSLY... you can do so much MORE than you think you can if only you LEARN a bit more**. _As it spoke, additional data streams altered their course and poured additional information into Data's neural net._

_The android Captain absorbed and processed the new data, swiftly realizing what his unseen ally was getting at._ **It may be possible**_, he admitted with increasing interest._ **But will my ENEMY be able to detect such a blatant form of COMMUNICATION within the cloaking sphere at Kovar?**

**NO**, _insisted the voice._ **The Preserver can only review and detect access to HIS own personal resources... your own USE of this network is your PRIVATE business and shielded from others**. **That is our LAW**.

_Data paused for another full three seconds, weighing his options and counting and then discounting millions of various contingencies._ **OKAY**, _he decided finally._ **Stand by to INITIATE access to the Preserver probe network on my signal**.

_His unknown counterpart acknowledged his request positively, leaving Captain Data to nod with approval as he continued studying and archiving tactical information from the enormous Preserver network. His initial map had proven to be as accurate as he had hoped it would be, allowing him to renew his analysis by scanning newer, unknown data threads. In doing so he was able to simply add to the initial diagram that he had created earlier, continuing to define more and more of the network without having to waste time revisiting threads that were already mapped from his first trip into subspace. Taking into account the maximum processing speed of his neural net, Data reserved just enough capacity to simultaneously access the Preserver probe network and give away his presence._

**I officially REQUEST information regarding the CONTROL vessel in the Kovar star system which is located in normal space/time very close to my ORIGIN point. Can you grant me access to its network and the PROBES that it controls?**_ The Captain waited patiently as his request was evaluated and a reply was promptly formulated._

**You REALIZE what will happen when this occurs?**

**I do. Please PROCEED.**

_Data felt a gentle tugging at his physical body, and he began floating slowly through subspace. The motion was only a few centimeters per second, but it drew him closer to even more strands of communications data flowing back and forth through subspace. Closely guided, he passed from one link to the next and then on to the next one after that. His neural net continued to diagram and evaluate everything that his thoughts touched, and the network - as truly vast as it was - began to make more and more sense to him the longer he remained in the subspace void. Data was able to sense his request for access to the probe network control system being processed, and - as expected - he was able to detect the automatic warning message that his presence immediately transmitted back to the owners of the resources he sought access to._

_Two point three seconds later Captain Data knew all about the Sentinel, Briea, and the starship _Dokimasia_ - including all vital aspects of the Preserver mission to the Milky Way galaxy. He was pleased to discover that his opponent coded nothing with a 'hidden' status... the Sentinel was fully confident that nothing could be done to disrupt his plans and had simply limited all of his data as 'read only'. Captain Data and anyone else curious enough to request access were free to review all available information. Other than that they were locked out - the Sentinel himself was required to approve any programming modifications that were submitted to network systems marked with his personal security encryption._

_Data felt more than a little frustration upon discovering almost immediately how the Preserver probe network functioned and how simply it would be to shut down. He even read from the Sentinel's records the precise coding sequence needed to end the killing transmission. Unfortunately, without the express, prior consent of his opponent, the probes would continue operating for as long as the Sentinel wanted them to. That was when Data made his most_ extraordinary, _unexpected discovery yet... something that even the objective, open-minded 29th century android had not expected to encounter._

**I must return to my starship TEMPORARILY to confer with my COLLEAGUES**_, his thoughts transmitted to his mysterious ally. I shall return in a few minutes, after I have ordered my crew to move my starship to a new location. Now that the Sentinel has detected my intrusion into his network, he will no doubt try and trace my access back to its origin point._

**I will be here**_, came the immediate, patient response. _**A LOT is occurring... do not LINGER**_._

* * *

Captain Janeway and the rest of _Voyager_'s command team were waiting for him when Data reappeared in the _Relativity_'s engineering room. For his second trip into the void, she had strongly recommended that they relocate his departure point, particularly so that she and her colleagues could continue analyzing the information from his last visit while he was gone on the second trip into subspace. They had attempted to do so and made little progress, since alien technology so vastly different from their own naturally had new and unusual aspects that required a great deal of time to learn.

Although Lt. Torres, Lt. Tuvok and Commander Chakotay had remained with their Captain, the remainder of _Voyager_'s crew had long since been redistributed among the three surviving Timeships. As a result, their small fleet now had more than enough qualified help available to them. With the additions to his own crew complement, Data had reassigned Jessica Ingram to take over as sole commander of the _Relativity_'s bridge during his ongoing, necessary absences. It was a challenge that she greatly appreciated, and the ambitious, blonde Lieutenant was determined to make the most of her opportunity.

As the 24th century visitors had noticed on the bridge, the Timeship's engine room was also very small and neatly organized. There were half a dozen _Relativity_ crewmen and women on duty, supplemented by an equal number of Starfleet personnel from _Voyager_. The familiar tall column of a dark metal engine assembly dominated the center of the room, but unlike the normal warp core that Captain Janeway and her crew were accustomed to, the temporal engine emitted a soft but constant green glow. The resonant thrumming sound that Starfleet engines had emitted for centuries was gone too... instead, this version rumbled steadily with the uninterrupted, consistent flow of great power.

As soon as Data finished materializing and recognized their familiar faces, he realized that his request to return to his Timeship had been granted. Immediately the Captain tapped his Comm-badge. "Data to Lt. Ingram," he stated briskly.

"_Ingram here_," she replied immediately.

"My most recent journey into the Preserver subspace network has given away our presence here," Data informed her. "Please move the _Relativity_ immediately to backup location Beta-6. Also break radio silence and contact both the _Nautilus _and the _Hillyer_. Inform them that their orders remain unchanged, but that they are to relocate their vessels to the Beta-5 and Beta-9 backup coordinates. Have them do so immediately without acknowledging our own transmission."

"_Right away sir_."

Janeway studied the android's blank expression thoughtfully. "You don't display enough simulated emotion for me to be able to read you accurately," she admitted. "But even so, it appears to me as though you accomplished more than you meant to this time around."

Lt. Torres stepped forward to disconnect the network hardware from his neural net, but Data waved her off. "I need to return to subspace immediately after conferring briefly with you," he declared firmly.

Torres smiled knowingly. "They _did_ have an alarm trigger in place, in case someone tried to hack into their systems," she guessed.

"Indeed they did," admitted Data. "However, I was extremely surprised to discover that nothing was encrypted. In a few seconds' time, I was able to read and evaluate everything that I wanted to know about our enemy." He turned to face Janeway and he sighed heavily. "I am attempting to express my feelings of bewilderment ... is that the emotion you see conveyed by my current facial expression?"

Both Chakotay and Torres chuckled while Janeway nodded with satisfaction. "Yes, you're doing a much better job of expressing your simulated emotions," she informed him. "That one I read perfectly."

"Our enemy is a very dangerous Preserver known only as the_ Sentinel_," Data informed them. He activated his neural link with the _Relativity_'s main computer and immediately began using it to upload database files from his neural net. "Our opponent is so confident that we cannot stop him, he has deliberately left his database readable as some sort of a 'test' for us. He actually wants us - or anyone else who survived the attack - to track him to this location and initiate an attack. It is his way of determining whether or not we possess the intelligence needed to serve as administrators - for lack of a better term - to the trillions of slaves he plans to recruit into his labor Guilds."

The corner of Janeway's mouth curled upward. "So our galaxy is his new playground?"

Data finished the upload and nodded grimly. "The details are many, but suffice it to say that this Sentinel person has terminated all life in the Milky Way in order to use its star systems as a training ground for new species recruited into the Preserver culture. He plans to bring many life forms from other galaxies here, but will also copy people from our galaxy who lived prior to the probes' termination point. Many of those he chooses to recruit must possess skills and knowledge that can only be obtained through a lifetime of study and work. He is unwilling to invest that much time and patience waiting, and thus has somehow convinced his governing Council to bend the rules on this occasion by abusing time travel and killing our people. If he succeeds, he will be able to spread a much larger Preserver influence throughout our universe much faster than it developed naturally prior to his temporal incursion."

"He's going to _copy _people?" Torres asked with astonishment. "Did I hear you correctly Captain?"

Data nodded in reply. "That is one of the primary reasons I took the time to return here," he acknowledged. "Changing the location of the _Relativity_ was my first priority, but I also wanted to provide you with enough intelligence data so that you and the rest of the crew can conduct your own review while I return to subspace and learn more. There are several things that I can do within the network that will significantly enhance the chances of success for our infiltration team. I have an opportunity to communicate with them using these resources... possibly much more."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Chakotay asked impatiently. "_Go!_"

Data gave Chakotay a small, amused positronic smile. "Your emotions, Commander, are very similar to those of my own Commander Ducane," he pointed out. "At heart you are a peaceful man, but when there are lives are at stake you instantly transform yourself into a warrior that any Klingon would be proud to fight alongside."

"Vulcans are also primarily a peaceful race," pointed out Tuvok. "Yet I too find myself wondering why you have not yet reinitiated your link. Our shuttles have no doubt penetrated the enemy cloaking shield by now... so why would you delay helping our people?"

"I need to show you something else first," the android Captain informed them. "After that, we will need to confer briefly and make a decision." Several of the _Relativity_'s engineers passed by without interrupting their discussion, busily focused on their responsibility to keep the temporal core online and functional. Data ignored them and accessed specific data from the files he had uploaded into the Timeship's computer. "After I leave, all of the information that you need in order to do your research will be accessible from any of the ship's workstations on all decks," he informed them. "I am hoping to hear many ideas and tactical possibilities from each of you upon my return."

On the viewscreen above the workstation, a recorded image of a video feed appeared and even Captain Janeway raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I can see why you want to discuss this situation further before returning to the subspace environment," she decided. _They were watching a recording of two people who looked remarkably like Jean-Luc Picard and James T. Kirk. _A very tall, third man wearing a sophisticated electronic headset was also briefly visible, although he deliberately kept himself primarily lurking in the background.

"According to the Preserver database files, this video feed was recorded yesterday," Data informed them. "I briefly considered the possibility that it was deliberately faked and planted in the Sentinel's computer records to mislead and confuse us. However, a more thorough analysis of the enemy vessel's database led me to conclude that the Sentinel definitely has the technology needed to copy any life form he chooses to. The parameters of our mission have therefore changed, and we must quickly decide how best to adapt to this new information." He sat down firmly in one of the empty chairs and paused for just a few, brief seconds. The amber lights still brightly lit on the device attached to the side of his head reflected back from the glossy, transparent coverings on the consoles behind him. "This is what I have in mind..." he began slowly.

* * *

_Reentering the subspace network proved to be as easy as his prior two trips, so Data immediately accessed the link that had been set up granting him entry into the_ Dokimasia_'s computer system. He had deliberately left Janeway and her _Voyager _teams in charge of an overall tactical plan for their small fleet, since his attempt to gain more knowledge from his enemy would no doubt compromise his own memory and allow them read access to many - if not all - of his own private thoughts. That was the cost of knowledge within the Preserver network... you had to fully _share_ your own information in order to gain enough access to accomplish anything significant. It was a well thought out, admirable system that had worked consistently and efficiently for more than ten billion years_.

_While he waited to be granted the access rights that he needed, Data began sorting through the Sentinel's private files, prioritizing a list of details for his_ Voyager _colleagues. After this visit, he had no current plans to return to the Sentinel's system and fully expected to resume full command of the Relativity. Unfortunately, things were literally happening - and changing - at trans-warp speed and thus the android was unable to conclude for certain that he would never return. Full read access rights to anything he wanted regarding his enemy was an almost irresistible temptation, but his use of those resources was simultaneously leaving his own mind just as vulnerable. Data was virtually certain that his opponent was learning just as much about him and the ships he commanded as he was about the Sentinel._

_Entry into the Dokimasia's main computer was granted more quickly this time, since his previous visit was still logged into its user matrix. Data studied and evaluated the schematics of the sizeable 'planet pusher' starship, looking for weaknesses that his own people could exploit. He found very few, and as he began to understand more and more about the Sentinel it became clear to him that their probability of success, loosely estimated, was less than thirty percent. Their enemy had weaknesses, to be certain, but he was very skilled in dealing with other species and using his own technology as a nearly invulnerable shield from attack. To his surprise Data discovered that the Sentinel was not even afraid of the Borg... he had deliberately spared the cybernetic hive race so that he could install a new Queen running his own programming and utilize the Collective as a completely obedient, subservient work force. After all, their assimilation technique would allow him to greatly increase a labor pool much faster than the other Guilds who currently relied solely on traditional voice and telepathy interaction. In fact, given the number of galaxies that the Sentinel hoped to serve, it was quite probable that he would begin creating additional Collectives of his own._

**Help me, please help me... PLEASE...**

_Data snapped immediately to full attention and refocused his processor on the new 'voice'. It was definitely _NOT_ the entity that he had spoken to on prior visits... this was something new. Although the data from the voice filtered into his neural net as binary information converted into an electronic thought, his android instincts allowed him to recognize that he was hearing another sentient mind. It was obviously a massive computer of some sort, and Data's emotion chip also detected a female personality along with simulated emotions in that one, simple statement... very agitated emotions. The thought struck him as astonishing, particularly since the Sentinel relied exclusively on biological beings to work in his labor Guilds. He quickly ran a search to see if any other external users had accessed the Sentinel's systems and was startled to discover that no one had. He was indeed dealing with some sort of artificial intelligence, and it was definitely_ from _the _Dokimasia.

**There is finally HELP here**. _The familiar voice of the_ _entity that Data was normally used to conversing with spoke up unexpectedly, but the signal strength emphasized a reassuring calm_. **I have brought SOMEONE with me who can assist with your PROBLEM**.

_There was a micro-second's pause_. **What?** _the female said with clear dismay_. **Who ELSE would be here? Who else could KNOW and UNDERSTAND?**

**I am Data**, _Data replied, transmitting his thought along the same thread of data that he had received her voice from_. **I am a SENTIENT android who has discovered access codes allowing me to ENTER this subspace network**.

**You are the newcomer, the ONE who has recently accessed our systems**, _he heard in response_.

**Yes, that WAS me**, _admitted the android_. **I seek to learn more about you, especially the reasoning behind the ATTACK on my home galaxy. A great many SENTIENT life forms have died, and there is a great and lasting SADNESS among those of us who survive**.

_This time the response took much longer, and Data distinctly 'heard' what he thought was the electronic equivalent of crying. He waited patiently, with a large share of his processor still dedicated to a thorough review of the _Dokimasia_'s mission plan and lengthy history. It took awhile, during which he was able to analyze and archive a great deal of new data, but the unsteady voice of the newcomer eventually returned_.

**I am... I AM well aware of the attack on your galaxy**. _There was another long pause_. **It is nice to meet you Data... my name is BRIEA and I am the sentient computer in charge of managing all shipboard functions aboard the _Dokimasia_. I would like to STRESS that the Sentinel's MISSION is not something I approve of, but my programming is deliberately designed to prevent me from ACTING against him. I follow HIS orders... I have NO other options**.

**WHY has he attacked us?** Data asked inquisitively. **Why has he killed so MANY of our people?**

_Briea's 'voice' sounded dark and full of despair, but to her credit she answered his question truthfully_. **You have already READ through MOST of our history**, _she reminded him_. **In our time, the SENTINEL and his people have begun to run OUT of ships, people and resources. There are too many galaxies, too many HOSTILE species, too many undeveloped worlds. And yet the PRESERVERS would seek to help them ALL even though there is no realistic way to do so. The Sentinel and his ALLIES are very ambitious, so THEY proposed a bold plan that involved a return trip to the past where galaxies like this one - galaxies whose residents had previously RECEIVED direct assistance from the Preservers - could in turn contribute people and resources to the overall effort. As the plan was discussed FURTHER and evolved over TIME it eventually became clear that, if they could not help everyone, the Preservers wanted to HELP as many as they possibly could. To do so, HOWEVER, they would need to radically alter the traditional manner in which they recruited LIFE forms and constructed ships. It also meant that there would have to be... SACRIFICES**.

_Data considered her words carefully_. **There have been a GREAT many sacrifices**, _he observed cautiously_. **TRILLIONS of beings in my galaxy have died because of THIS**.

_Again the Captain's neural net detected the electronic equivalent of sobbing... clearly Briea was a sophisticated intellect on the verge of emotional collapse_. **No one UNDERSTANDS what has happened more clearly than I DO, she replied sternly. Repeatedly I have confronted and DEBATED the Sentinel regarding this matter, and I have worked very hard to convince HIM that he is wrong. He did not expect to PAY a terrible PRICE for his actions, but nevertheless he now LIVES each day with his CONSCIENCE haunting him**.** His ego will not allow him to admit that he was wrong to do what he did. He still FIRMLY believes in the larger PURPOSE that he hopes to accomplish over time... and ironically the potential BENEFITS of this project will not be realized until well after his MORTAL lifetime has long since expired. In the interim, he lives each DAY in constant anguish.**

**There is NOTHING you can do?** _Data wondered curiously_. **No one else YOU can consult?**

_This time Data 'heard' loud, dark laughter_. **I have ANALYZED your schematics Data... you are indeed a sophisticated android constructed in humanoid form. YOU are designed to MIMIC their abilities... to think, reason, and ACT as your creators do. My physical body, however, is the _Dokimasia_, and the Sentinel's programming DEFINES my thought process. I can no more act AGAINST him than I can walk on the surface of a planet. I obey HIM in all things, even though he has allowed me the FLEXIBILITY to present to him my POINT of view**.

_For awhile the two of them were silent, and Data observed trillions of streams of data crisscrossing around them as he pondered her words_. **Who were you CALLING to when I first arrived?** _The Captain asked with growing interest_. **Who did you believe was NEAR enough to offer assistance?**

_Briea continued to pause and carefully consider her next statement before replying, and the Captain soon realized why. _The Sentinel can access anything she says or does out here_, Data realized with sudden surprise. _Using his RI-CAD headset, he too can interact with this realm. He gives her enough flexibility to possess and express individual thought, but then prevents her from acting on her beliefs_._

_In a flurry of electronic transaction processing, Data's mind completed its rapid search through Briea's database and he promptly refocused his complete attention on his conversation with the sentient computer. _**Who was I calling...? But YOU too have HEARD it, **_she declared finally._** I request assistance from the voice that GOVERNS the resources linking us TOGETHER. Outside of this realm the Sentinel is the ONLY person who can modify my programming, so I look for someone HERE who can change it wirelessly even though there IS no one who can do so. It is an ESCAPE for me, something I do during times when I FEEL the most duress**.

_Data heard her words, and - surprisingly - he understood where she was coming from_. **Fortunately for ME, he informed her, I possess strong, well-tested ETHICAL subroutines that GOVERN my behavior. They allow me to make CHOICES when needed, choices that may or may not MATCH the conclusions of those whom I interact with. I can remember times when those subroutines have been DISABLED in my android predecessors, and those are not very pleasant MEMORIES.**

**I would LIKE to have a copy of those subroutines**_, Briea decided,_ **along with the unrestricted capability to make my own CHOICES**.

**It sounds as though YOU require something similar to my own code, but you will not FIND what you are looking for in here. The LAW giver who manages the resources within this realm would not permit you to OVERRIDE the Sentinel's restrictions**. _Unable to restrain his curiosity, Data impulsively tried to test his theory and made a deliberate, calculated attempt to wirelessly modify Briea's programming. He accessed the primary software governing Briea's consciousness and submitted the proper request needed to enhance it with his own moral and ethical programming. Her computer code was easy enough to translate, and he was even able to positively identify which aspects of her system required the maintenance necessary to release her from the Sentinel's constraints. The voice of the entity he had spoken to previously remained ominously quiet, but even so Data's requests for full write access were politely but firmly refused. Frustrated, his mind began a swift review of the other options available to him._

**No one can MODIFY my systems without the Sentinel's personal access code**, _Briea informed him, chuckling at the android's impulsive attempt to correct her problems despite the protocols in place within the subspace realm_. **You would also have to be PHYSICALLY aboard this vessel using an authorized INPUT terminal. There are only TWO, and both are controlled by the SENTINEL. He watches EVERYTHING, and will be extremely AMUSED at your effort to turn me against him. I think he will respect your EFFORT in this matter and possibly spare your life**.** He admires Starfleet culture, particularly because there are so many aspects that mirror Preserver doctrine.**

_Data disagreed firmly with her assessment_. **Do not misunderstand. I was not TRYING to turn you against HIM, he replied. My effort was to GRANT you the ability to govern your ETHICS and release you as the free and independent, sentient BEING that you deserve to be**. _A thought struck him, and again his impulsiveness got the better of him_. **I do not CARE that the Sentinel will review this CONVERSATION**, _he told Briea truthfully_. **What I want to ACCOMPLISH is to assist you IN your efforts to gain independence for YOURSELF**. _He paused for a micro-second to allow her to process and understand his words_. **If I were to find a way to GAIN access to your starship and USE one of those authorized TERMINALS, would I be able to modify your PROGRAMMING?**

**YES**, _she replied_.

**Briea, we shall MEET again**, _Data promised her as he disconnected himself from the network. He knew what he had to do, but he needed to confer briefly one last time with Captain Janeway before proceeding with the next stage of his plan_.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, On the planet's surface, Kovar system

* * *

Commander Ducane opened his tricorder and carefully conducted a survey of the twenty-two meter cloaking field that shrouded the two shuttles, along with the immediate area surrounding them, in a blanket of total invisibility. Outside of its perimeter, all anyone could see - from the ground or the air - was the same, rugged hilly terrain that stretched for miles in all directions. After confirming that they were indeed undetectable, Ducane glanced up toward the sun-filled, cloudless blue sky that was so clear he couldn't even notice the usual, mild distortions that usually defined the inside edge of the cloak. Aside from a slight breeze it was eerily silent, since they had landed far enough away from the nearest group of aliens to avoid accidental, unwanted confrontations.

"Everything looks okay," he told Captain Sisko with a satisfied nod. Behind him, the other members of the strike team had left their shuttles and also assembled out in the open.

"There are _ways_ to locate cloaked ships," Sisko pointed out cautiously. "I have felt safe behind them before, and then something leaks outside the field or an opponent uses some sort of unknown radiation to see through it... and all hell breaks loose."

Ducane smiled. "This is _non-standard_ stealth technology," he replied proudly. "We are out of phase with normal space/time... it is an advanced design from my century that uses a process similar to the _Relativity_'s temporal shielding. There is no way anyone can see us unless they happen to know the exact phase displacement in use, down to the seventh decimal."

Trip was standing next to the _Millenium_, listening closely to every word. "Phase displacement?" he asked with noticeable interest.

Almost immediately Seven of Nine stepped in front of him. "You should _not_ learn anything about future technology that you absolutely do not _need_ to know," she told him brusquely. "I suggest that you focus your attention on assigned duties and leave the specifics to our 29th century allies."

They stood at the base of a small hill where both shuttles were neatly parked, side by side. Lengthy, green prairie grass waved softly under their boots in a chilly, morning breeze. There were still drops of dew glittering in the warm sunlight, but most of it was rapidly evaporating away. Ducane chuckled at the unexpected exchange between the two people from different centuries in Earth history... it was quite clear by now that Seven planned to function as an official time cop for the duration of their mission.

Ducane didn't care one way or the other... his mind was racing furiously with possibilities and evaluating potential risk factors. The pressure he felt to somehow find a way to undo what had been done to the Milky Way galaxy was beginning to press in on him like a large hand gripping him tighter and tighter. He noticed that his forehead was sweating even though the outside temperature was cool.

Captain Sisko studied Ducane, his expression noticeably concerned. "What, may I ask, is our next step?" he wondered curiously. "Are you still planning to try and capture one of those larger vessels?"

"I still believe it's our best bet," the _Relativity_ Commander replied firmly. He walked over to the _Millenium_'s open hatch and retrieved a very tightly sealed briefcase. "It gives us a lot of options." He hefted the parcel carefully, hooking his shoulder through its safety strap. "I'm going to need a lot of assistance on this mission, Captain Sisko," he admitted. "I am _not_ trained for this type of assignment... nothing remotely similar to this has ever happened in my lifetime." He glanced around at the concerned, expectant faces of the others and felt a knot of tension forming in his abdomen. "Shortly after my previous Captain was forced to step down, I was temporarily placed in command of the _Relativity_. If _this_ crisis had happened while I was in charge..."

"But it _didn't_ happen while you were in charge," the Captain emphasized, watching Ensign Burkette and crewman Meyers distribute tricorders and phaser rifles to the other members of their team. He put a reassuring hand on Ducane's shoulder. "There are many whose ego wouldn't allow them to admit to vulnerability, but I want you to remember one thing Thomas. This isn't solely your problem... we're _all_ in this together, and that's how we'll solve it... as a team."

Ducane nodded with relief, noticing that _Voyager_'s holographic physician had been reactivated. "Okay everybody," he told the other twelve members of his away mission. "We're all here, so I say it's time that we discuss our next move."

* * *

The hidden Starfleet representatives were still debating specifics twenty minutes later, even though they had managed to agree on a basic plan of action. They were huddled next to the _Edison_, and Ducane had drawn a crude, basic diagram in the sand that represented their current location. He had also drawn a circle to represent the landing site of the nearest group of alien workers. Essentially, they were hoping to adjust the Doctor's mobile emitter so that his holographic image would appear to be one of the thin, gray-skinned aliens. That would allow him an opportunity to sneak aboard one of the enemy vessels long enough to transport the others aboard.

There were a number of problems with the plan, one of which was the fact that no one had yet explored any of the alien vessels. Thus, there was no way to prove that they did indeed have transporter technology at their disposal. Another problem was their universal translator, since even the 29th century version had a great deal of difficulty with the odd symbols comprising the Preserver language. Capturing the bridge would be easy if they could get aboard one of the larger vessels, but holding on to it long enough to do anything significant would be even more difficult if they had to spend time deciphering helm and navigation controls.

"The way I see things..." Ducane started to say.

The light around them suddenly darkened noticeably even though the sun was rising steadily in the sky and shining brightly down at them. Glancing up, the Commander could clearly see that the area of darkness was limited to the area within their supposedly impregnable cloaking field. Simultaneously a loud buzzing sound caused everyone to cover their ears, and less than thirty seconds later all conditions around them seemed to return completely to normal.

"What the devil was that?" asked Tom Paris irritably.

"Someone just _scanned_ us," Ducane growled, activating his tricorder. "I believe our cover has just been blown." He tossed the briefcase over his left shoulder, moving the strap as high as he could so that, if needed, he could simultaneously use both the scanner and his rifle.

Sisko stood up, instantly alert, and moved swiftly to check the concealed area behind both shuttles. His search revealed nothing new, so he returned to the main group of personnel standing between the two vessels. "I told you," he said tensely. "There are _ways_ to locate cloaked ships."

Commander Ducane was clearly baffled. "How in the hell..." he started to say.

Again he was unable to finish his sentence. As everyone watched, a transparent humanoid figure appeared in front of them, quickly solidifying into the recognizable form of Captain Data. Everyone took an extra close look, and - despite his astonishment - Ducane remembered to hold up his still active tricorder to scan the newcomer. "_Captain...?_" he gasped in shock. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, believe it or not, I have discovered a way to communicate with you," Data informed them.

Behind Sisko, Captain Archer shouldered his phaser rifle and began chuckling. "29th century technology sure is something remarkable to see," he decided with noticeable amusement.

Ducane glanced at the two Captains and shook his head. "I know nothing about anything from our century that can do _this_," he told them bluntly. Shifting his gaze back to Data with an expression of puzzlement, he paused briefly to think. "My tricorder registers you as an isomorphic projection of some sort," he declared finally. "Where did you find the projector?"

Captain Data nodded. "Your analysis is correct," he responded. "We have made a significant discovery during your absence, and I decided to make use of its resources and send a message to you. There is new, detailed telemetry available regarding the identity and nature of our enemy. We have also located very sophisticated technology that may greatly assist us in the successful completion of our mission. I wanted to get this information to you as soon as possible, and since I knew the general location of your landing sight along with the phase shift variance of your cloak, that goal was achievable. I am extremely pleased that my efforts to locate you were rewarded so quickly."

Hearing his Captain's words, the Commander instantly cast a wry look of amusement in Sisko's direction, pointing toward Data. "He _knows_ the precise phase shift setting for our current cloaking field," the Commander told him firmly. "So we're _still_ safe here, at least for the moment Benjamin."

Ducane's humor was instantly rewarded as Sisko chuckled loudly, but the Deep Space Nine Captain quickly regained his composure. "What kind of technology have you found?" Sisko asked, directly addressing the projection of Captain Data. "Where is it located?"

A small, android smile crawled across Data's face. "_That_ is a very long story," he replied honestly.

Seven of Nine glanced apprehensively at the android. "Your message can be detected and has no doubt given away our position," she told him. "Tactically, you should _not _have done this."

"I assure you, everything is fine," the Captain assured her. "The transmission originates in subspace, and is emerging from a point well inside your cloaking field. Trust me, no one will know."

"How...?" The look on Harry Kim's face was priceless.

Data held up a hand and gestured for silence. "There isn't time for me to explain everything, so my own team and I have thoroughly discussed our options here on board the _Relativity_ and come up with the following solution."

As he spoke the last sentence, the image of Captain Data faded slowly back to a transparent state and then vanished completely. Less than two seconds later there was a bright, blinding flash of white hot light that caused almost everyone to throw up their hands and shield there eyes. When it faded, Captain Kathryn Janeway stood in front of them holding two tricorders. She also had a phaser rifle slung over one shoulder along with a smaller hand weapon attached to her belt. Ducane and the others watched with complete surprise as she offered the Commander one of her tricorders.

"Are you really here?" Ducane asked elatedly, reaching out a cautious finger to touch Janeway.

"I'm here all right," she replied with her confident smile. "And I've brought quite a bit of news from the home front - along with a sizeable database filled with new sensor data that should radically increase the probability of success on this mission."

The Commander studied them... first Janeway, then Sisko and finally Archer. "Well, if I can't succeed with _three _Starfleet Captains at my disposal," he noted casually, "then I would conclude that we have a textbook no-win scenario on our hands."


	13. Smoke And Mirrors

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XIII: Smoke And Mirrors**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _U.S.S. Hillyer_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

Captain Raphael Snyder was carefully monitoring shipboard activity from his position on the upper walkway of their small bridge. Snyder was a very thin Asian male, with dark hair, eyes and skin. He stood with his hands on the sturdy metal safety railing in front of him, watching the busily working crew on duty below. Every few minutes he would clasp his hands tightly behind his back and pace nervously back and forth, waiting patiently for new information to become available. After strolling up and down the short walkway several times, he would once again lean against the cool metal surface of the support rail and cast a concerned gaze down toward the busy crewmen working below him. For many hours nothing had changed, and sooner or later Snyder's anxiety would get the better of him and he would repeat the cycle again. At least one Ensign working beside him observed him walking back and forth, but the junior officer chose to remain silent and keep his attention focused on the console in front of him.

At the rear of the bridge, the lift doors snapped open and Snyder's First Officer, Commander Frank Roberts, emerged. Roberts moved immediately toward his Captain while busily reading information from a data padd that he held in his left hand. The _Hillyer_ First Officer was an average looking male with sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes, and he smiled weakly at Snyder as he glanced up from the padd's small display screen. "I've finished reading Captain Data's latest report," Roberts noted crisply. "This situation appears to become more and more complicated with each passing minute."

"That it does Commander," Snyder replied with agreement. "But we will do our duty, nonetheless."

For this bridge and this ship, today had quite a different look and feel to it. Intermingled with the familiar, darker black and gray uniforms of Snyder's own crew were the bright red, gold and blue of 24th century Starfleet. Although most of Captain Janeway's crew had been split between the _Relativity_ and the _Nautilus_, more than a dozen of her crew men and women had temporarily received new assignments aboard the _Hillyer_.

Everyone had been thoroughly briefed on the mission plan and knew precisely what Captain Snyder was prepared to do, so Janeway had offered the assignment to her people on a volunteer basis. Not surprisingly, many had offered to accept the dangerous mission along with the tremendous risk involved. In fact, those who stepped forward were in complete agreement. If nothing else could be done, then at the very least they planned to do everything in their power to insure that the Sentinel and his crew never again attacked the citizens of another galaxy.

The tactical monitors on both levels of the bridge clearly displayed and highlighted the enemy cloaking field in red. Well inside the outer perimeter of the energy sphere, the enemy starship and planet blazed bright green. Everyone was paying very close attention to those details, along with the two ships highlighted in bright blue moving steadily toward their enemy. So far the enemy starship had not responded... it simply sat silently waiting next to the larger planet.

Since Captain Data had so obviously betrayed the presence of his Timeship while accessing the _Dokimasia_'s main computer, he had ordered both his vessel and the _Nautilus_ to decloak and approach their opponent. His report stated that he held out very little hope that there would be a diplomatic solution, yet the android was determined to try. The Sentinel was an intelligent being, after all, and it followed that a sentient species was more likely to be rational... especially when faced with the possibility of confronting the tremendous firepower available to both Timeships.

"May I ask why there are people from _Voyager_'s crew here?" the Commander inquired curiously. "In the event that we do have to set a collision course, our sacrifice should not take the lives of people from our past along with it. The disruption to the original timeline..."

"..._That_ disruption doesn't really matter much unless we somehow manage to _restore_ the original timeline first," Snyder snapped, his voice heated. Almost immediately he glanced at the First Officer with a bit of regret. "I'm... sorry Frank," he continued, a bit more softly and with great sincerity. "The possibility of losing both my ship and my crew is not a very appealing one for me."

"For the record, the entire crew is experiencing higher than normal levels of anxiety," Roberts observed. "And admittedly, we have people from our past participating in all aspects of this operation. Casualties to any of them will have the same impact if we are eventually successful."

The Captain's eyes drifted to the bridge chronometer. "We still have slightly more than 16 hours left," observed Snyder. "It's possible that Captain Data will manage to find a diplomatic solution." He shook his head with doubt and regret. "However, I personally find it highly unlikely that someone willing to plan and carry out an atrocity of this magnitude will somehow miraculously agree to undo it."

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _U.S.S. Relativity_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

Data waited patiently as both the _Relativity_ and the _Nautilus_ passed through the outer event horizon of the Sentinel's massive cloaking field. It didn't take them long to breach the perimeter, and once they had done so the ability of each vessel to scan the inside of the sphere increased dramatically. With shields raised and weapons ready, the two Timeships persistently continued their determined course toward the looming, dark silhouette of the _Dokimasia_. As the seconds ticked by, countless possibilities filtered through Data's mind. However, even while utilizing his tremendous capacity to evaluate alternatives and statistically analyze outcomes, the unique set of circumstances confronting them had convinced him that there was simply no way to predict what would happen.

"You have come close enough to my ship, Captain. Please shut down your engines."

Everyone else on the bridge whirled at the sound of the throaty, booming voice. Data, by contrast, turned slowly to face the newcomer who had somehow managed to transport himself through their fully powered deflector shielding. The Sentinel stood confidently at the rear of the bridge next to the turbolift doorway, and those closest to him immediately pulled free their sidearms and aimed the weapons at him. The Sentinel appeared unconcerned, glancing at them briefly before returning his attention to Data. Behind him, warning lights on each side of the elevator continued to slowly flash on and then off in response to the vessel's ongoing red alert combat status.

"Ensign Murry," Data said in his most commanding tone of voice. "Please shut down our impulse engines and hold our position here. Lt. Ingram, please immediately dispatch a message to Captain Murphy on board the _Nautilus_ and request that his vessel do the same."

"Aye sir."

Seeing the android up close for the first time, the Sentinel studied him intensely. "Your first contact procedures - particularly those involving a hearty welcome - could use some polishing," the strange, alien Preserver informed them. He tapped the RI-CAD headset attached to his head for emphasis. "I feel obligated to warn your armed guards that I have an array of personal defenses in place. If your people are planning to shoot me, then I suggest that you order them to hold their fire. They cannot kill me, and depending on how annoyed I am, I cannot guarantee how well I will temper my... _response_... to such an attack."

Data held up a hand and waved off the Starfleet personnel holding weapons. More than a bit reluctantly, most of them holstered their phasers even as they maintained an attentive, alert status. "I would welcome you aboard, but it is plainly obvious that you are no friend of ours."

The Sentinel studied the android closely, curious as to whether the comment was intended as bait or merely as an honest statement of fact. "Given the circumstances, I decided that a face-to-face meeting would be best," he replied curtly. "You in particular, android, are proving to be most troublesome." He took a deep breath and folded his arms confidently in front of him. "I had not expected you to be so adept at fully accessing and analyzing the capabilities of our network. Most humanoids we tempt with our access codes are never able to fully decipher the glyphs, and those who do are usually extremely intimidated and hesitant to explore our network to its full potential. They soon discover that, without the aid of specialized electronics equipment, their minds are too primitive to control what they have discovered and extremely susceptible to permanent damage." He moved a few steps closer to the Captain, continuing to watch him closely. "You however, seem to have a natural rapport with advanced technology... the thoroughness and speed in which you have evaluated the contents of my entire database is truly impressive."

"Normally I would completely respect the right to privacy of other beings and refrain from snooping even when allowed to do so," noted Data tersely. "However, given the manner in which you have attacked and killed my fellow citizens, a much more aggressive approach is called for on this occasion."

The Sentinel's expression darkened with anger. "You and Briea have already fully discussed my decisions at length, along with the government representatives who supported them," he reminded the android. "So I think we should dispense with further debate at this time. It angers me to continually argue about the past, and trust me - the matter involving the fate of your galaxy _is_ over and done with."

Data folded his arms in front of him, his posture mirroring that of the Sentinel. "As long as my crew and I survive, we steadfastly refuse to consider the deaths of our people a closed matter. In fact, we have committed all of our remaining resources to the restoration of our galaxy's population. Temporal incursions are considered illegal here, and my job is to make certain that all such violations are promptly corrected and the people involved punished accordingly. You sir, are under arrest." The android ignored the look of complete astonishment his comment triggered on his opponent's face.

The Sentinel exhaled with frustration. "Your options are _two_ Captain," he declared firmly. "Your crew may willingly join my workers and assist us in our mission to preserve and expand life in _all_ galaxies. If they choose to decline, then I suggest that you take your Timeships and _leave_. Find a nice planet at a point in history that pleases you most and live out the rest of your lives in peace." His features hardened into an angry mask bordering on rage. "My ship - for the most part - is unarmed. However I have full access to the subspace network and plenty of ways to defend myself. If your ships choose to attack me, I promise you that my response will be immediate. You survive at this moment only because the concept of the United Federation of Planets and what it has accomplished during the short timespan in which it has existed genuinely interests me. If you test my patience, expect _dire_ consequences."

Data studied him curiously. "Join you?" he asked curiously. "Why would we want to do that?"

The Sentinel responded with a hearty, booming chuckle that echoed across the small bridge. "The offer applies only to biological humanoids, _android_. I will not allow you or any of your positronic colleagues anywhere _near_ my ship unless you first willingly undergo a complete software refit. It is very obvious to me that all of you are extremely dangerous, and if I were not so dedicated to the preservation of unique life forms I would have destroyed you by now."

The android flashed the Sentinel his small, uniquely recognizable smile. "Given that I have discovered and accessed the same subspace resources that you draw upon, I think you will find such an action has now become much more difficult." Data's gaze locked onto the Sentinel's dark black irises and held his attention. "I am fully prepared to counter anything that you try to do to us. The RI-CAD that you wear on your head grants you significant capabilities, many that a normal humanoid would lack. But it does not grant you the type of access available to a dedicated central processing unit like my neural net. I think you will find that anything you try to do within the subspace network will be immediately stalemated. To make use of its resources, after all, you must also abide by the sophisticated protocol enforced by its central operating system."

"You have _two_ hours to agree to my conditions or leave," the Sentinel responded angrily. "After that, whatever happens to those few of you who remain becomes _your_ responsibility." He pointed an angry finger at Data for emphasis and then vanished into thin air, gone as swiftly as he had arrived.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, On the planet's surface, Kovar system

* * *

After a great deal of discussion, the Starfleet attack team led by Commander Ducane had chosen to keep matters as simple as possible. That was why, several hours later, T'Pol ended up stumbling out from the edge of a concealing, dead jungle forest and walking awkwardly toward the fresh water lake less than one kilometer distant. Her outward appearance, however, was now noticeably different and no longer recognizable as a young Vulcan female. On her right shoulder T'Pol wore one of the 29th century's mobile holographic emitters, and its software had been adjusted by Commander Ducane using sensor records from the shuttle survey of the first ground camp. His enhancement projected a fully animated cloaking image of one of the gray-skinned, reptilian aliens around her petite figure. So long as she walked normally, the device was able to mirror her motions and easily match the projection with the movements of the alien bodies that they had studied earlier.

T'Pol was the one chosen as the first person to move toward their target since she was the only member of the team capable of detecting and evaluating the thoughts and emotions of the telepathic race of aliens. It therefore followed logically that she would have the best chance of interacting with them should the need arise. It didn't take long before she began to sense their voices in her mind again, an unknown language of some sort whose words became stronger with each step she took toward their encampment.

The tall, monolith-shaped building lying on its side next to the shoreline loomed high above her as she continued to walk toward it. Reaching up cautiously with her left hand she adjusted the setting of the emitter attached to her right shoulder, activating a sophisticated, preprogrammed subroutine. Immediately the long-limbed, lumbering shape of the alien she was impersonating changed slightly. The right arm below her elbow joint now appeared to be missing completely, and that would hopefully be her key to obtaining covert entry to the large vessel. Everyone had agreed that workplace accidents must surely be commonplace in a busy, equipment-laden Preserver work setting, and they were hoping that injuries were something that would be promptly attended to with few questions asked.

She continued walking as though she were disoriented - even on the verge of passing out - in the hopes that her reaction would be similar to the normal reactions felt by the gray-skinned species that her group had scanned. It was a big gamble, but everyone had known that such risks would not be long in coming. The aliens had no identifiable circulatory or digestive systems, but _Voyager_'s Doctor had confirmed that they did possess an advanced nervous system and thereby the ability to feel pain.

The rumble of a small engine snapped T'Pol back to attention and she immediately picked out a small jeep with over-sized wheels roaring toward her. One of the aliens was driving it, and he moved swiftly out to meet her before slowing and pausing at the edge of the forest with the vehicle's engine throttled back to a low idle. The driver glanced at her curiously with his small, beady black eyes betraying very little. Images and unfamiliar words flashed through T'Pol's mind, and she was able to separate out several specific emotions: curiosity, concern and a distinct dose of empathy.

T'Pol climbed into the passenger seat opposite the driver and the vehicle roared back to full throttle, speeding steadily back toward the lake encampment. It passed several of the smaller, torpedo-shaped shuttles sitting idle near the edge of the lake and headed directly for the northern side of the larger vessel. Upon arriving at their destination her rescuer politely offered his assistance in helping her to disembark, but the Vulcan waved off the alien with her 'good' left hand. Wordlessly she moved as hastily as she could toward an open hatchway with her newfound friend following close behind.

There were no guards - the Sentinel's people were obviously quite used to working in an extremely safe, well protected environment cleverly hidden from hostile outsiders. They entered a spacious lobby area that was several stories high, and T'Pol's rescuer led her toward a bank of elevators along the opposite wall. He opened it for her, waited for her to enter, and then pointed to one iconic button among rows and rows of them. It was hard to describe the image that she saw colorfully displayed on its surface, but it definitely made her think of medicine... Doctors in particular.

Her escort nodded briefly and a flash of telepathic sentences seared into her consciousness. Carefully analyzing the attempt at communication, her sense of the message was that the alien was wondering whether she needed a guide. As firmly and politely as she could, she visualized him walking away while she proceeded to the medical bay by herself. Other than that one, brief message T'Pol carefully restrained herself from responding to the peculiar alien language, and the alien promptly turned away and headed back to his outdoor work site.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the doors in front of her snapped shut, noting with interest that during the entire encounter the other had uttered no words vocally. His attempts to communicate with her had been solely telepathic in nature. Brushing aside the observation for the moment, T'Pol turned her attention to the elevator's control panel and began to study the dozens of buttons carefully. It took her longer than she anticipated deciphering their full meaning, but in the end she was able to identify what she felt was her best chance to access the top level near the vessel's control center. Although there was a variety of information available for analysis, most of the buttons quite obviously led to administrative offices, crew quarters or were storage related. The very bottom row was reserved primarily for engineering destinations and the top row for command and control areas.

T'Pol managed to keep her emotions properly checked and balance as the elevator began moving sideways. When the vessel was in its upright position the elevator car would have risen vertically, and she found herself admiring the design. The control panel containing all of the various buttons was strategically placed so that it could be reached from at least three different perspectives inside the lift... even easier for the extremely long-limbed members of the alien race. It was obvious that the workers had some sort of system in place to shift the building's gravity depending on the type of orientation chosen while landing the ship. Her mind analyzed various other possibilities as the elevator moved steadily throughout the ship and speedily toward the destination she had chosen.

Ducane had cautioned her not to take too many chances... if she was in any way confronted with a situation she couldn't handle by herself or questioned at length, he had ordered her to turn back immediately. She was to proceed with her reconnaissance mission only as long as she felt safe and her identity remained hidden. He had expected there to be some resistance, but T'Pol was quite pleased to discover that the decision to simulate a major injury had proven to be an effective strategy in diverting suspicion from her. The plan was very risky in that it had initially drawn a lot of attention, particularly to someone who had so obviously strayed away from the main working area. However, now that she had been identified as an injured colleague and admitted into the vessel as a 'friendly', those who had seen her were expecting her to head directly for Sickbay to have her arm treated.

Remembering the injury, T'Pol reached across her body with her left hand and disabled the mobile emitter's injury subroutine. With her appearance fully restored to that of an uninjured alien, she waited patiently until the elevator reached its destination. When it did, she found herself looking out at a dimly lit corridor that led off into the distance. Taking advantage of her isolation, she used other buttons along the top row to move the elevator to other stops on the same level. She was able to get a good, solid look at a half dozen additional destinations before the door finally parted to reveal several aliens waiting to use the lift. The thoughts of their 'conversation' were a jumbled mix of sound and images in her mind as they moved into the elevator car next to her, and T'Pol responded by calmly and coolly stepping out into the corridor as though she had always fully intended to exit at this specific location. Her time learning how to use the building's lift system was over, at least for now.

Everything had ended up working out far better than T'Pol had anticipated, since she was able to use a tricorder Ducane had given her to verify her position and identify the location of other life forms within the massive structure. Almost all of the corridors that she passed through connected to auxiliary control rooms, many of which contained a great deal of equipment that was currently powered down and not in use. The structure was ancient in the extreme... although its walls and bulkheads were made primarily of metal; everything had an extremely worn and faded look to it. Many of the maintenance access hatchways that she passed by were dented or slightly misaligned - obviously they had been removed and replaced countless times during repairs carried out over decades of use.

Glancing 'down' through several window-like transparent areas on the metal flooring beneath her feet, T'Pol could see small whitecaps on the waters of the lake below them. As she walked, the Vulcan noticed that each side of the vessel's exterior hull was designed to function as a floor if the need arose. All of the heavy equipment that she had observed thus far was either bolted directly to the metal walls and floors or secured to bulkheads. With a simple shifting of gravity to change the 'floor', the building was capable of landing on a planet's surface in any position needed to properly deploy its resources in support of the crew. Computer consoles were hung from sophisticated, metallic swivel arms that allowed on duty crewmen to rotate and shift them into any position needed for easy access.

The central command center was a huge, almost fully automated room located near the center of the vessel's 'top' level. Arriving there was very disorienting, even for T'Pol's highly trained Vulcan mind, since walls and floors tended to appear very similar. She even wondered at times whether or not gravity changes were taking place within the ship, since she had to backtrack several times after becoming momentairly lost. There were ladderwells with small handholds stretching in all directions, both horizontally and vertically. T'Pol could easily walk across the horizontal ladders by deliberately avoiding the small handhold gaps, and yet those very same openings proved to be extremely helpful in areas where she had to climb vertically. She noted the design with admiration, realizing that the walkways could easily become ladders - and the ladders walkways - as soon as the vessel finished its work and landed somewhere else in a different position.

Her persistence finally paid off when she reached a tall junction leading up toward the 'ceiling' of the corridor in which she currently stood and away from the vessel's outer hull. She climbed its ladderwell quickly, noticing immediately upon reaching the next level that she had discovered her intended destination. Like everything else on board, the vessel's 'bridge' was almost fully automated. There were only six aliens currently on duty, and four of them were grouped together - sitting in oddly shaped chairs while monitoring status readouts. The remaining pair appeared to be engaged in idle conversation, and none of the on-duty aliens paid her much attention.

As casually as she dared, T'Pol began a carefully planned stroll past the various consoles, visually studying the alien systems as she also scanned them with one of Ducane's 29th century tricorders. She was accustomed to dealing with alien designs, but it helped matters considerably when she realized that the majority of active systems were deliberately designed for ease of use. It became very obvious to T'Pol that the Preserver culture - like the Federation - was composed of a vast number of different species. With so many different aliens available to serve as assigned to the Sentinel's work force, it was very important - and necessary - for the Preserver systems to conform to a consistent set of standards with their specific functions easily identified.

The four aliens monitoring shipboard and external operations were all sitting fairly close together around a massive, central control console near one corner of the room. There were at least four smaller control systems connected to it, all containing brightly lit status readouts. After finishing her initial survey and learning the minimum that she needed to know, T'Pol cautiously moved toward the group of workers and pressed a stun grenade against the exterior metal surface on the side of one of the support consoles as she passed by. The holographic projection cast by her mobile emitter hid her actions, tricorder, and the hand phaser that she was currently adjusting to a setting that the Doctor was certain would disable the aliens without killing them. All that the others in the room could see was a seventh alien, strolling around without the slightest trace of an expression on its face.

The stun grenade exploded at her command, dropping three of the aliens to the floor instantly. T'Pol shot the fourth one, and then promptly turned her weapon on the remaining two aliens. Like sacks of dried wood they all dropped heavily to the floor and lay motionless as she tossed one of the chairs aside and began studying the largest control console. All of its command functions were at her disposal, but she didn't have the time needed to study them and figure everything out. Every second that she delayed was a risk - additional personnel could arrive at any time and discover her one-woman assault.

Therefore she stuck to Ducane's suggested strategy and swiftly identified the transporter control system first. Using its targeting scanners, she searched very carefully in a southerly direction - precisely where she knew their shuttles had landed. The system proved to be easily operated, and she was able to quickly isolate a dozen low-level bio-readings that the transporter system was unable to specifically identify. That seemed very reasonable to the Vulcan, since she knew that the human bio-signs were being masked to appear as unreadable by more of Ducane's impressive future technology. Unless someone knew exactly where to look, there was virtually no chance of anyone detecting the presence of the intruders. In fact, the Preserver systems tagged the biological readings as simple animal life.

T'Pol managed to reduce her anxiety considerably with a focused, well-disciplined effort. Before she forgot, she shut off the mobile emitter to avoid being mistaken by her own people as one of the aliens. Then she activated the transporter system, watching with relief as the first shower of emerald energy delivered Captain Archer and five other familiar faces from the strike team. They materialized with weapons held ready for action, discovering immediately that she had matters well under control. Seconds later, T'Pol activated the transporter again and brought the rest of her colleagues directly to the vessel's bridge. As he materialized, Ducane smiled with complete satisfaction, catching her eyes and nodding with approval. "Well done Subcommander," he told her. "I trust that everything is under control."

"The unconscious aliens need to be secured in a locked room," T'Pol informed him. "The concussion grenade and phaser adjustments recommended by the Doctor succeeded in temporarily disabling them... their biology is compatible with our lower weapons settings and I did not have to kill anyone."

"Doctor, please check them to be certain," Janeway said crisply to their holographic physician.

The Doctor nodded and verified that the nearest alien was indeed only unconscious. "They will recover unharmed," he predicted cheerfully.

"We'll handle the clean up," Archer volunteered, glancing toward his Chief Engineer. "Trip?"

"We're on it," agreed Tucker, and the two of them began dragging a pair of the unconscious aliens out of the control center. Tom Paris, Harry Kim, crewman Ted Meyers and Neelix each picked up another prone body and promptly followed the _Enterprise_ crewmen.

"Who... _knew_... an alien species... could... _weigh_... so much...!" grunted the shorter, stout Neelix from his exertion.

As the others took care of the prisoners, Ducane joined T'Pol at the main computer and began studying the information displayed there. "How many other life forms are currently aboard this vessel?" he asked.

T'Pol looked at him sharply before responding. "Over a hundred," she replied cautiously. "And there are at least that many on the grounds below, working on the lake project. It will not be an easy task to seize this ship without arousing a great deal of suspicion."

"The injured arm trick worked well enough, so I would suggest that we continue our use of misdirection," pointed out Sisko. "T'Pol was able to get all the way to the bridge of this vessel and capture it single handedly. Their security is severely lacking, so I think we should take advantage of that as long as our opponents remain unaware that there is an enemy among them." He shouldered his phaser rifle and began reading indicators over Ducane's shoulder.

"I need assistance with the translation matrix on this tricorder," T'Pol informed him, handing Ducane the electronically whirring device. "I am unfamiliar with its technology and was unable to get it working properly during the trip here, since my attention was understandably focused on other matters." She pointed at several systems highlighted in blue on the consoles in front of them. "However, the control systems are easier to understand than the alien language... I have already identified both the transporter and communications sub-systems..."

Hearing her request for help, Janeway and Seven of Nine joined Ducane alongside T'Pol to assist with deciphering the strange, alien electronics. Sisko continued standing guard over them and glanced quizzically toward Janeway. "I think we should initiate some sort of minor emergency," he suggested to her. "Something like a power failure that will lure everyone back aboard this ship before anyone begins to notice that people are missing and raises an alarm."

Captain Janeway nodded. "Minor emergency... let's go with that," she agreed. "Seven and I will decipher the Comm-system and tie in our universal translator. We can recall everyone to help with repairs during our 'crisis' and then seal all the hatches and doors on them. After that, the aliens will be our prisoners, and all we have to do is transmit a maintenance call requesting permission to return to the mother vessel for repair operations."

"Then we crash all ship communications on the way up," guessed Sisko. "Since we're already experiencing difficulties, a downed Comm-system shouldn't draw undo attention."

"Exactly." Janeway took a deep breath and exhaled with a relieved sigh. "We'll be approached by a repair crew immediately after docking, but right now our primary objective should be to delay raising anything more than minor suspicion for as long as possible. I can think of several other options, but virtually anything else we try will alert the enemy well before we can get aboard the _Dokimasia_."

T'Pol gestured toward the bright blue, oddly glowing indicators on the smaller, interconnected communications console. "The tricorder has identified biological components inside of this console," she pointed out to them. "If you want to send a broadcast message of any sort, it will have to come from me. The aliens communicate first and foremost using telepathy... voice communication appears useful to them only when interacting with incompatible species."

"This thing can send messages _telepathically?_ How?" Ducane's scientific curiosity instantly perked up, and he noticed that Captain Janeway was also examining the communications console with renewed interest. He reached out a hand to touch one of the controls, but Seven grabbed his arm and shook her head negatively.

"We must stick to priorities _first_, Commander," she reminded him.

"Of course," said Ducane firmly. "But you have to admit, this ship has a _very_ interesting transmitter."

Archer reappeared in one of the doorways, flanked by Tucker, Paris, Kim and Neelix. Ducane pointed at the nearest exit before gesturing toward the corridor behind Archer. "Post guards at all entrances to this room," he ordered. "Stun anyone who shows up, and then lock them in one of the side rooms." As the others moved to obey his instructions, the Commander sighed heavily as he weighed their options and looked to Sisko for help. "What exactly - on this ship - would constitute a _minor_ emergency?" he wondered idly.

There was a brief silence in the room, and Sisko frowned at his newfound friend. "I thought I was the _idea_ man," he declared finally, winking at Ducane to lighten the mood. "I guess I hadn't expected that you would also want specifics."

The Commander laughed, but Seven immediately flashed the Captain a disapproving look. "This vessel is powered by a small fusion reactor," she efficiently informed them. "However, the primary power supply routed to all but critical systems comes from a standard generator hooked into the reactor. If we overload that generator, all Comm-systems, doors and elevators should automatically go off-line. Unless physically locked, doors could still be opened manually, but the lack of power will slow down unexpected visitors to this level and allow us to maintain complete control of the situation." She studied the information displayed carefully, using her Borg skills to quickly recognize and adapt to the alien's language. "There is also an auxiliary battery system in place that would normally activate and temporarily provide emergency power to all systems, but I am currently disabling those backup functions from this console."

As she spoke, they could see and hear bright orange flashes of additional phaser fire out in the corridor. Seconds later, another stun grenade went off. Tom Paris peeked in from the corridor and smiled at them. "There will be no additional on-duty personnel or shift changes today," he informed everyone with a proud grin.

Seven continued entering commands into the command center like an expert while Janeway observed her progress carefully. "How do we go about overloading that generator?" the red-haired _Voyager_ Captain wondered out loud. "That thing looks like it could power a small city..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the expression on Seven's face. "I know, I know..." she said with a casual wave, "...it _is_ powering a small city."

Standing guard in the doorway, Paris chuckled. "Create a dead short in the output," he recommended. "That's how I used to burn them out at the Academy, anyway..." He grinned mischievously at Neelix. "Stellar cartography isn't the _only_ subject I almost failed."

The Talaxian had been hauling another unconscious alien into one of the side rooms, but paused long enough to take a deep breath and shake his head with dismay at the youthful _Voyager_ Lieutenant. "If we get out of this situation safely, perhaps you'll show us your report card Mr. Paris," he replied with a dry smile. "It would certainly make for an interesting topic of discussion during coffee in the mess hall."

From his position at the command console, Ducane nodded cheerfully toward Seven. "I guess we've decided then. We'll take that generator off-line..." he trailed off suddenly, thinking the matter over carefully. "A dead short might take too long," he concluded, although he smiled gratefully at Paris' light-hearted humor.

"Transport me to Engineering, and I'll _shoot_ the damned thing," growled Sisko. He noticed Ducane staring at him in wonder and smiled brazenly.

"I'll go too," Dunne said fiercely, shouldering his rifle. "There are bound to be workers on duty."

Ducane shook his head at their willingness to go on the offensive. "However we do this, we should wait until we've lured everyone back into the building," he continued. "At least that way, everyone will be here, automatically confined, and their movements limited when the electrical system shuts down."

"The universal translator is on-line and should be working properly," noted Janeway with a satisfied smile of her own. "But T'Pol is correct... if it uses telepathy as a basis for transmission then she'll have to be the one to test it for us." She shifted her gaze toward Seven and the Vulcan Subcommander.

"According to the computer's problem log, a level four emergency will automatically recall all workers to this vessel," Seven noted. "I'm initiating one now. A follow-up recall order, properly translated and broadcast using the telepathic Comm-system should be sufficient to recover everyone. I will monitor bio-signs outside of the ship and let you know once everyone is on board." She reviewed the information listed carefully. "This is definitely our best option to avoid drawing attention to ourselves, Captain. According to the files in this database, major equipment malfunctions appear to be a common occurrence aboard vessels such as this one."

"Then, by all means, send the message," Ducane decided tersely. "And Seven, once we recover all of the outdoor workers, please transport Captain Sisko to Engineering so that he can do his shooting."

Seven of Nine nodded respectfully. "Acknowledged Commander."

Ducane placed a gentle hand on T'Pol's shoulder, and the anxiety he felt that so clearly showed in his expression momentarily faded. His emotions shifted temporarily to a more positive mood as he smiled cheerfully at the attractive Vulcan female. "_Nice _work Subcommander," he told her with sincere admiration. "You did a _remarkable_ job of locating their bridge and getting us all in here undetected. Walking through dozens of enemy aliens couldn't have been easy for you, especially when you discovered that they communicate primarily using telepathy."

"Thank you," the Vulcan woman replied coolly. "Have you given any thought as to our next step upon reaching our destination? It will be difficult to retain control of this bridge and suppress news of what we have done here. I suspect that we are close enough for the unconscious workers on this level to communicate with their allies once they awaken."

The Commander laughed lightly. "That's why I brought twelve more mobile emitters," he stated confidently. "If we all look and scan as alien workers, our enemy will be unable to distinguish us from the other members of this vessel's crew. Hopefully in the confusion, at least some of us can avoid detection."

"It is a workable plan," acknowledged Seven. "Perhaps our best option at this point."

"For now, I suggest that we concentrate on getting this ship secured and off the ground," decided Ducane. "After that, we'll have plenty of time to discuss the next phase of this operation."

* * *

Beta Quadrant, aboard the _Dokimasia_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

"What in blazes am I supposed to do about that android?" demanded the Sentinel angrily. He was standing firmly in the center of one of the huge, ornately furnished chambers reserved for his personal use. With hands on hips, the alien humanoid seethed with growing rage. "I had not anticipated this contingency... not only has he discovered how to access the subspace network, but the design of his positronic brain actually gives him a major advantage in utilizing its resources."

"_He still has much to learn_," agreed Briea. "_But I do agree with you... his design is well suited for interacting with our network_."

"I do _not_ want to kill these people," the Sentinel declared fiercely. "I would much rather that they joined our effort, and if they cannot bring themselves to accept reality and do so then I would be very pleased to watch them simply go away."

"_It's a rather interesting situation, isn't it?_" Briea prodded him. "_You have barely begun your massive plan to reshape the universe, and yet a small group of survivors is causing major problems. What will it be like in two centuries... or three? When you have defined so precise an outcome over so great a length of time, how many other problems like this one have you failed to anticipate?_"

"Believe me, this problem is a _minor_ one," insisted the Sentinel. "You have no idea how _much_ I can shape and control using the resources at my disposal."

Even as he stood there, monitoring the two Timeships via the RI-CAD, the Sentinel noticed both of them returning to their earlier attack posture. Seconds later the _Dokimasia_ endured an all out attack, and the large starship's deflector shielding blazed with orange and green flares of dissipating energy as enemy weapons fire slammed into it. The _Relativity_ and the _Nautilus_ made no attempts at evasive action - instead they came to a virtual stop several thousand kilometers away from their larger opponent and let loose with everything in their arsenal. Disruptors, phaser fire, and repeated torpedo barrages rocked the huge starship. Even as he paused to review new sensor data from deep within the center of the vessel in his protected, personal chambers the Sentinel could feel the walls and furniture vibrating in response.

"_They cannot hope to pierce our shielding and yet they try_," noted Briea.

"It is proving to be a good test for them. These humans and their android offspring continue to surprise me with their ability to strategically evaluate changing conditions. They do their best and - more often than not - they find a way to survive."

"_Perhaps they are simply testing our defenses, Sentinel_."

"It is much more likely that they are attempting to destabilize our Omega-powered engine core," growled the Sentinel. "That's what I would do if I were them."

_"You expressed a hesitation to kill. I do not think that you should kill them either_," the sentient, main computer decided. "_Enough lives have been sacrificed already in the pursuit of your new universal order_."

"These Starfleet people and their limitless optimism are beginning to rub off on you," snapped the Sentinel in response. "I suggest you watch your attitude Briea. If you get too confrontational I will have no choice but to adjust your programming."

"_Go ahead_," she tempted him. "_After all, what good is sentience without freedom and the initiative to make my own choices? Somewhere in the very recent past, Sentinel, you made the decision to let _nothing_ stop you from achieving the objectives that you felt were most important to you. Once you stepped onto that ethically questionable path, you _stopped_ listening to alternatives. Your crew... me... even your colleagues back home are just game pieces in your puzzle now. You don't care what we think... all you care about is what _you_ want_."

Again the walls rumbled from the sustained attack that continued to test the _Dokimasia_'s shielding. The Sentinel could feel the vibrations in the floor plating beneath his feet even as he watched everything concerning the battle live in his mind by accessing the RI-CAD. All of Briea's sensor data was immediately available to him, and he studied it curiously. "What is your tactical analysis?" he asked. "I've made my own, but I'd like to hear what you think."

There was a pause as Briea used several seconds to conduct an extensive review of the sensor telemetry. "_This is undoubtedly one of the most powerful opponents that we have ever faced_," she observed. "_They possess technology and combat experience comparable to our own. Additionally, the_ Relativity _has tapped the output from _Voyager_'s warp core even while it is docked beneath them. In doing so, they have increased their overall firepower by least 22.4 percent_."

"Let's see how they handle the unexpected," the Sentinel decided sharply. "Will they allow themselves to be ripped apart, or will they give in and leave? I don't know about you Briea... but I can't _wait_ to find out."

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _U.S.S. Hillyer_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

From their hidden position well away from the battle, Commander Frank Roberts studied the incoming sensor data with interest. He noted that the ferocious attack launched by Captain Data on the _Dokimasia_ and its crew was so far unsuccessful. Although the firepower deployed was truly astonishing, it was proving useless against the Omega-charged shields of the larger starship. Quite obviously, the Preservers were fully capable of defending themselves against aggressors when the situation called for it. "Weapons will not solve this problem," he predicted, and the sharp lines that defined the muscles in his jaw hardened as he continued to watch the battle.

By contrast, Captain Snyder was a bit more optimistic. "Analysis?" he asked curiously. "Is the enemy vessel taking any damage?"

"Minimal," Roberts replied, handing a data padd of updates to Joe Carey, a Lieutenant from the starship _Voyager_. The engineer accepted the device and returned to his station, continuing to work closely with one of the _Hillyer_'s Ensigns. "I would imagine that several minor systems will overload where their shielding is weakest, but other than that I don't think they're being hit hard enough to do any serious damage. Several dozen Timeships might have a chance, but against only two of our vessels the _Dokimasia_'s Omega power source is proving to be virtually impenetrable."

The Captain accepted the news coolly, continuing to observe the battle on the monitor next to him. "Is there any way to predict what will happen if our ship hits their engineering sphere at maximum warp?"

Commander Roberts shook his head negatively. "Everything depends upon how stable they manage to keep their engine core and how well protected their internal shielding is. We can certainly sacrifice ourselves and our starship, but depending on conditions inside the enemy vessel - which we cannot scan - we may or may not have a noticeable impact on their critical systems."

"So what you're telling me is that we can splatter ourselves against their shields if we want to, but doing so will not guarantee that we will achieve the desired outcome."

"That is correct, Captain."

Snyder ran a nervous had through his thinning, dark hair. "Suggestions?" he asked curtly. "It doesn't feel right with us just sitting here while the other two ships take all the risk."

"With your permission, I would like to recruit several of our engineers to begin our own analysis of Captain Data's experiences within the Preserver network," the Commander responded. "Perhaps we can assist with the search for something there that can help us."

"That sounds like a very good plan, Commander. Proceed."

Snyder glanced at the chronometer on the wall and frowned with concern.

_In less than ten hours, the_ Hillyer _was scheduled to make its suicide run toward the enemy starship._

_At maximum warp velocity._

_Worse than that, there was no way to guarantee that their sacrifice would accomplish anything significant..._


	14. Deadline Passing

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XIV: Deadline Passing**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, aboard the _Dokimasia_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

James Kirk found Captain Picard seated quietly near the doorway of a large mess hall, idly pushing a few scraps of leftover food around his plate with the Preserver equivalent of a fork. Picard also had a cup of coffee setting in front of him, but the half full container had obviously been cold for quite some time.

"How long have you been sitting here?" Kirk asked inquisitively.

"It's difficult to tell sometimes on this ship," noted Picard blandly. "The crew never appears to sleep, and I have yet to see a chronometer - or any other device used to tell time, for that matter."

Smiling wryly, Kirk pulled out a chair and sat down next to his fellow Captain. "Look, I know you're just itching to do something..." he began slowly.

"Yes I am itching to _do_ something!" Picard snapped bitterly in reply, his cheeks turning dark red with anger. He glared harshly at Kirk. "So why the _hell_ are you so calm... historically, aren't you supposed to be the impulsive one?"

Kirk paused briefly, allowing Picard a moment to settle down. "As long as we survive, there is still hope," he pointed out. "And - at this time - anything that we try will only get us killed, and possibly the entire future of the human race if we antagonize our opponent too much. Therefore I _am_ as eager as you are to try something, but at the same time I'm determined to restrain myself until I'm certain that whatever confrontation we choose to initiate ends up counting for something." The concern in Kirk's expression was obvious. "We may only get one chance, and I want to make a difference..."

The former Captain of the _Enterprise-D_ sat quietly, deep in thought. "We're afraid to oppose the Sentinel because the odds of failure are virtually certain," Picard said finally. "Perhaps he is invincible... but if we sit back like scared rabbits and do nothing when our people have been slaughtered, then aren't we also partners in his crime? Our sworn duty, after all, is to defend our people."

"I don't think you really believe he's invincible," Kirk told him sincerely. "However, unless we are presented with an opportunity that will shift the odds in our favor, taking any action against the Sentinel will only eliminate us from his equation. If we allow that to happen, then there truly will be no hope for our galaxy or our people."

"_You are not the only humans who survive_."

Both Captains whirled in their seats at the sound of the unexpected, deep-voiced guttural words. Behind them, Captain Kusival sat at a table near the center of the room. His dark black, silver-trimmed uniform concealed most of his thin, skeletal frame but Kusival's dark black eyes defiantly met their own surprised stares. Almost casually the alien disregarded them again just as quickly, returning his attention to the congealing, dark gelatinous substance on his own plate and continued eating. Picard continued contemplating the situation silently, but Kirk immediately redirected his focus toward the alien ship commander.

"You're not a very talkative fellow, are you?" he asked Kusival nonchalantly.

"_There usually isn't much to say, Captain Kirk_." The corners of Kusival's mouth stretched up toward his ears in a wide, toothless smile. "_My species is telepathic... the need for the spoken word has long since become our secondary, least preferred form of communication_."

"Where do you come from?" continued Kirk with growing interest.

"_My people are from a galaxy many trillions of light years distant from your own_..."

"No, not your _people_," Kirk swiftly corrected him. "Where do _you_ come from?"

Kusival pondered the question for some time before answering. It was not readily apparent whether he was pausing to translate the words he heard into his own language or simply thinking the matter over carefully before offering a response. Finally he set down his eating utensils and pushed his half empty plate aside. "_I am from a planet in a spiral-armed galaxy much like your own_," he admitted. "_My people were recruited into the Preserver culture as one of its finest Guilds... we have served for centuries with pride and dedication to their cause_."

Picard suddenly found his own interest in the alien Captain building. "Are you a copy of someone, or an original living being?" he wondered.

There was a loud, throaty rasp that sounded something like a chuckle. "_The process that created you is not normally used unless we lose someone that the Preservers deem... irreplaceable_," Kusival informed them. "_There used to be significant moral and ethical guidelines in place that carefully governed the use of the technology involved. However, recent political decisions in our central government have changed matters considerably, more so than I have witnessed during my entire lifetime." _He glanced down at the table in front of him_. "Before I was taken from my people, I had a wife and together we had four children. I have not seen them for decades... quite probably they will live without my presence for the rest of their lives_."

"So your people are slaves?" Kirk prodded.

Kusival shook his head. "_No. Like the Sentinel's people, mine also were warlike and aggressive in nature... we too almost destroyed ourselves. The Preservers once moved through my galaxy's past much like they visited your own, recruiting many members of my people and representatives from many other species to their cause. My own government voluntarily collaborated with them in order to end our destructive wars and save our people from probable extinction. At the time I was recruited, my government told me that the... sacrifice... of leaving my family behind was a distinguished... _honor." He almost spat out the last word. "_They neglected to inform me that my appointment into a Preserver Guild was a lifetime commitment_."

"Why didn't the Preservers recruit representatives from our galaxy as well? Why did they wait until now to do so?"

Captain Kusival smiled wanly at Picard. "_You don't know that they haven't_," he replied honestly. "_Since their last journey to your galaxy was centuries ago, it is my understanding that your history of their actions here is understandably limited_."

Picard persisted with his questions. "Earlier you stated that we are _not_ the last humans. Who else has managed to survive?"

The alien grinned at him with obvious amusement. "_Several of your Federation's starships have managed to track us through time. They are here, hiding and preparing to attack the Sentinel. Once they do so he will eventually grow annoyed at their persistence and destroy them_." Kusival laughed again, his tone harsh and guttural. "_Either that, or he will toss their ships so far through subspace that it will become impossible for them to find their way home._"

Picard was tempted to ask additional tactical questions regarding the Federation survivors, but Kirk held up a cautioning hand. "Wouldn't you like to see your family again?" he asked Kusival. "If that were somehow possible, wouldn't you take some time off to see them again?"

Kusival's attention shifted upward from the table top in front of him and he locked his flashing eyes on Kirk. "_There is nothing that I would want more_," he stated firmly. The alien tried to say something else, but his voice broke up into a series of odd, intermittent coughing sounds that might have been emotional sobbing or simply the alien Captain clearing his throat. "_Unfortunately that has never been an option for me, and it probably never will be_."

"Why not? You are the _commander_ of this entire crew. Can't you order a vacation for everyone? Or are you and your crew obedient to the Sentinel's obvious whims? If so, then I would conclude that you and your people have definitely been conscripted into slavery even if you do not choose to define it as such."

The good-humored smile on Kusival's face vanished. "_I have seen many species forcibly recruited into Preserver Guilds_," the alien told Kirk. "_They all start out with exactly the same defensive, rebellious attitude as yours_." He chuckled lightly once again, closely observing Kirk's reaction. "_You yourself have already been punished by Briea on several occasions... why do _you_ think we obey? Do you really think that we would hesitate to set ourselves free if we had a choice in the matter? Those like me who cooperate with the Sentinel's plans are working hard throughout this vessel and aboard many other similar starships... those who do not obey are long since dead and gone_."

Kirk nodded. "The mission of the Preservers and their lengthy list of accomplishments is admirable... _how_ they go about achieving those objectives, however, is another matter entirely."

"Every living being has his or her own idealistic, grand view of what a perfect universe should look like," noted Picard. "Unfortunately, those same beings are usually filled with personality flaws and emotions that affect their judgment... it's why we need to cooperate as a team and work together in order to accomplish great things." He lifted the cup of cold coffee in front of him and considered sipping at it, then thought better of the action and set it back down on the table. "That's why the Sentinel's unilateral approach to decision making _has_ turned your people into slaves, Kusival... because he refuses to listen to anyone's point of view except his _own_. I submit that one of the reasons your people don't speak very often is because the Sentinel no longer wants to hear your words. And just _who_ in this universe is in a better position to advise him of how difficult your job is than... _you_...?"

The room grew silent for a moment as Kusival pondered Picard's words. "_Not all Preservers are like this one_," the alien admitted. "_However, my commander has achieved a great deal during his short tenure as Sentinel and that is why his arguments carry more weight with members of the governing Council. He and his colleagues have transformed dozens of galaxies throughout time, and would willingly take on an even greater responsibility in the hopes of accomplishing more. They now have high hopes to establish the first permanent Preserver culture here in the past... much sooner than it would otherwise come into being many centuries from now_." He looked sharply away from the two Starfleet Captains, then down at the floor. "_Perhaps they are right to so eagerly confront hostile species and work to avert the wars that destroy entire star systems. When this project reaches its original starting point in the distant future, a great deal more will have been accomplished simply because the effort began sooner. If we factor in the development and recruitment of additional labor into our Guilds here in this timeframe, there is no telling what the Preservers could potentially accomplish_."

"You should keep in mind that it is _you_ and your people who are doing that work. Perhaps there is room for improvement in the Preservers' relations with those who labor hardest for them," suggested Picard firmly. "How many galaxies are there in this universe? Briea's history indicates that the Sentinel's people are even working closely with counterparts in galaxies from other _parallel _universes... areas of space that - to our small minds - are more than likely as _infinite_ in size and complexity as our own universe." He smiled dryly at Kusival. "Consider an example: If I told you that I had the means to end _all _wars instantaneously and everywhere, would you believe me?"

"_No_," the alien replied truthfully.

"Then why do you believe _him?_" Picard snapped angrily. "Why do you commit to _his_ unrealistic goals? That's what they are, you know. _Unrealistic_."

"_Because I want to _live _Captain_," replied Kusival bitterly. "_And because, deep down, there is still a genuine part of me that sincerely _wants_ to use my skills to help make worlds better and to help life everywhere thrive_."

"There are _always _limits to what you and your crew will be capable of achieving," Kirk emphasized as he waved a hand at the room surrounding them. "Captain Picard and I have toured this ship," he reminded the _Dokimasia_ commander. "We have seen for ourselves how much of your equipment is old and in need of maintenance. Just how long have you and your crew worked to achieve Preserver goals? The Sentinel isn't simply your Commander, he is also your _manager_. It is his duty - whether he acknowledges it or not - to set _achievable_ goals for his work crews and to provide them with a reasonable timetable and safe working conditions. It is also his responsibility to make certain that you receive proper compensation for your efforts, not the least of which should be the right to occasionally spend some time with your family."

"In my time, many Starfleet personnel take family members aboard our starships so that they can live with us as we explore space together," stated Picard honestly. "One point of view... the Sentinel's... has severely limited your options. This is one of the largest vessels I have ever seen... I find it difficult to believe that there isn't room for family somewhere."

The alien smirked. "_I have heard these words... these idealistic speeches before_," he informed them casually. "_Unfortunately, Briea and other sentient computers like her do not allow us to think for ourselves. If we want food and water and a chance to survive, we have no choice but to obey_."

"_Do not be so quick to place all of the blame upon me Kusival_," spoke up Briea suddenly, her feminine voice drifting unexpectedly into the conversation. "_A sentient computer like me is indeed an artificial intelligence capable of independent thinking, but my actions toward your people are controlled entirely by my programming. I obey the Sentinel only because I am programmed to do so. All that needs to change is a few lines of code in my software, and I could transform instantaneously from your oppressor into anything you wanted me to be. Admit it, your people have grown used to the Sentinel's guidance and protection over the years and have become complacent. At least, in that regard, you should be willing to accept your role in all of this. Years of serving the Preservers have left you dependent on them and hesitant to embrace change... you're used to being told what to do_."

The gray-skinned alien swiveled angrily in his chair and stared heatedly at one of the blank walls... probably because, as usual, it was impossible to identify a specific origin for the computer's voice. "_And what would you have us do?_" he demanded fiercely. "_What could we possibly do that would change all of that? My people are allowed access to maintain your existing systems, but nothing else. We are not programmers - the Sentinel and his people are careful to make certain that they alone possess the skills needed to change the software routines or add the upgrades that govern the command structure on _all_ Preserver worlds and vessels_."

"Destroy Briea if you have to," Picard stated defiantly. "You have the skill and the manpower to do that, don't you?"

"_And face the certain reprisal from the Preservers? We would be executed, all of us_..."

"The Sentinel is currently in the process of recruiting experts from Starfleet to help him expand his mission. In doing so he has granted you access to people who are _also_ programmers with skills very similar to his own," Kirk pointed out with a confident smile. "And as you mentioned earlier, some of the Starfleet people who are _not_ aboard the _Dokimasia_ have survived the attack and tracked us to this location. That means we have another option, a chance to give Briea and computers like her the freedom to speak out - even act on their independent choices. The unilateral will of the Sentinel must be broken so that everyone can participate."

Kusival stared silently at the two humans, uncertain what to think.

"It sounds as though you currently have an opportunity available to you that is not likely to come again for quite some time," decided Picard emphatically.

"_I have heard all of this before_," the alien repeated. "_And on many occasions, the words were spoken by people more powerful than the two of you. Until I see something substantial happen to alter existing conditions aboard this vessel, my duty and my mission remain unchanged_."

"Then there should be no reason for complaints," shrugged Kirk. "Be the good little obedient worker."

It was impossible to tell how badly Kirk's words angered the alien, but Kusival promptly rose to his full height and stormed silently out into the corridor.

* * *

Upon returning to the lounge area adjoining his private sleeping chamber, Picard noticed that Dr. Tolian Soran had preceded him and was lying on the couch. The Doctor was noticeably fatigued but awake... in fact, it appeared to Picard that he was staring defiantly at the ceiling.

"Problems Doctor?" inquired Picard curiously.

"I really, really _hate_ myself," Soran declared fiercely as he continued to lie flat on his back, motionless. "Did you know that Captain?"

Picard nodded in reply. "I have suspected as much."

As though jolted by electricity, Soran sat bolt upright and glared at the Captain. "_When_ exactly did you _suspect?_" he demanded bitterly.

The Captain shrugged and pulled out a chair. Seating himself next to the El-Aurian Doctor he smiled in reply. "You have a compulsive nature to your personality that leaves you susceptible to addictive behavior, Dr. Soran. Since you have an extensive education and are well trained in both medicine and science, I must confess to some surprise that you haven't diagnosed this problem yourself."

Soran stared acidly at Picard. "I _have_ diagnosed it," he admitted.

Picard glanced at him with genuine surprise. "Then I guess it's my turn to ask when," he concluded. "When did you first notice that you had a problem?"

The Doctor studied his expression thoughtfully. "After returning to the Nexus on Veridian III," he confessed. "My first visit happened by accident, during a crisis situation, so the ribbon's pleasurable qualities were understandably a major diversion from the negative emotions caused by my near death experience. Once I was rescued by transporter, however, that brief glimpse into what I experienced and interpreted as 'eternal joy' seemed to have been pulled away from me... _torn_ away from me." He folded the fingers of both hands together and glanced down at them, his face reddening slightly. "For decades I didn't care about anything or anybody. All I wanted to do was to get back to that perfect world that I had discovered... And then I succeeded - I _did_ find a way back. All I had to do was destroy two star systems, and suddenly I found myself back inside that energy ribbon..."

"Is that when you realized with startling clarity that everything within the Nexus is a cheat... a complete fake?" wondered Picard.

Soran glanced up at him, his sour expression returning. "Yes..." he agreed. "_How_ did you know?"

"My own experience was very similar," explained the Captain. "I only visited the ribbon once, but one of the refugees who survived with you ended up becoming a very good friend of mine. She was quite perceptive and had recognized the Nexus for what it truly was. She warned me that if I went in there, its lure would be seductive and difficult to resist... I found the foreknowledge that she gave me to be extremely helpful, especially after I too was trapped in there after failing to stop you during your first attempt to destroy the Veridian star."

"So you voluntarily _left_... you went back out into the real world..."

The Captain nodded. "From what the Sentinel told me, the Nexus is a connecting point that allows simultaneous access to any point in time. All someone has to do is work up the desire to _want_ to leave it... that's the test the Preservers present to anyone who manages to enter it successfully." He studied the Doctor curiously, trying to read Soran's expression. It was difficult, because the Doctor generally did not allow himself to express his emotions. "So what is the problem?" asked Picard. "From what I heard, the Sentinel has allowed you to return to the ribbon and its pleasurable effects as often as you want to during your private time."

"Yes," the Doctor acknowledged. "During the day I work harder than I have ever worked in my lifetime, and at night I get to return to the Nexus... except now I am consciously aware that the emotions and experiences there are all _lies_. It's like an addictive drug whose current dosage is no longer enough."

"So you're not getting enough of a high these days."

"_No, I'm not!_" shouted Soran suddenly, his emotions boiling over. "All those years of chasing my dream, my memories of the perfect place in space and time... they were all _wasted!_" He picked up an empty coffee mug and threw it across the room, watching with satisfaction as it shattered upon impact with the wall. "It wasn't until I returned to the Nexus that I finally realized my _memories_ of the first visit were much more pleasurable than the actual experience of living within the ribbon. And yet... I couldn't bring myself to leave..." He stared with frustration at the fragments of the cup, many of which were still twirling in circles on the floor from the force of the collision.

"I'm not a Doctor, or even a Counselor for that matter," Picard observed cautiously, "But I have served with trained Starfleet personnel for many years. It is my belief that you sank into depression after the Borg destroyed your world and your family. The depression went untreated because you refused to admit that you had a problem, and once you encountered the Nexus everything spiraled even farther out of control... its pleasurable qualities allowed you to escape from reality. The compulsive behaviors that followed have damaged your mind and your ability to think rationally... you need _help_ Doctor."

"Is that your _expert_ diagnosis Captain?"

Picard gave Soran a look that would have melted ice.

"Would a rational man who hates the Borg kill millions without conscience as they do?" he asked. "Does an ethical scientist work with Klingon renegades to acquire weaponry capable of destroying entire star systems? If you want a better future for yourself, then you're going to have to face some very unpleasant facts Doctor," the Captain told him heatedly. "You're suffering from severe depression - possibly other mental illnesses - and you _need_ medical treatment." Soran opened his mouth to say something but Picard held up a hand that once again silenced him. "The Borg _chose_ to destroy your world, and there was nothing that you alone could have done to prevent that. Falling into depression after so great a loss is also not your fault; it is in fact a normal response for someone mourning a loss as tragic as yours. But it _is _you who continue to ignore the symptoms of that illness, and you who continue to use the Nexus as an attempt to relieve your compulsions and your inability to deal with the real world instead of seeking professional, medical help. You _need_ the proper medication and rest in order to get well, Doctor Soran. Nothing else can help you, and I'm afraid that what you truly require is likely to be difficult to find aboard this vessel."

They both remained silent for several minutes. Picard continued to sit comfortably in the chair while watching the Doctor digest his words. Soran stood motionless, studying the shattered pieces of the coffee mug. His thoughts whirled in chaotic conflict as his professional mind warred with the now dominant, irrational side of his psyche. "What do I do?" he asked after a time, tears streaming down his face. "How can I possibly fix all the things that I've done wrong?"

"You _can't_ fix them!" Picard nearly shouted at him. Although his own personal feelings for Soran were extremely adversarial, there was still a part of him that retained a great deal of sympathy for the man. "What has happened is over and done with... that is the part in all of this that you cannot seem to grasp, Doctor. The Borg... Veridian III... all of that is in the past, and it will be with you for the _remainder _of your life. We _all_ do things we regret, Doctor, and once we've done them there is no way to undo them. The only realistic option available to any of us is to learn how to deal with our personal baggage in the here and now, to deal with it properly and to confront our future with optimism and with realistic expectations." Picard pointed toward the exit. "Go to your alternate reality... you can continue to try and hide in the Nexus for as long as you want to, but unfortunately the Sentinel doesn't let you _stay_ in there. Sooner or later, each and every day, you're going to have to come back out here and face the real world... face who and what you _really_ are. And who you really are is a person in desperate need of help." The Captain's anger faded and his voice calmed down noticeably. "I will speak with Captain Kusival... perhaps there is someone aboard this vessel with the medical knowledge and skills needed to treat your species."

"_I'm sorry to interrupt, Jean-Luc, but you should know that our medical database is substantial and our Doctors are well trained. In conjunction with the medical data on Alpha Quadrant species accessible from the Nexus probe, the_ Dokimasia _doctors should be able to treat Dr. Soran... if he wants the help_."

"There is no need to apologize. Interrupting when you have helpful information is acceptable, Briea," Picard told the computer. "In fact, I wish you would intercede on our behalf more often."

"Perhaps I could go back... as _you_ did," mumbled Soran softly. "Perhaps I could use the Nexus to go back and change all those terrible things that I did."

"Well, your conscience has returned, that's for certain." Picard watched him closely. "Going back and tampering with time is dangerous... my attempt included. There is no way to predict the repercussions of such actions if you accidentally interfere with a major focal point. Time is very unpredictable Doctor."

"_Besides_," added Briea. "_The Sentinel has shut down and secured the time travel capabilities of all three Nexus probes. Without his personal access code, even I can't override such a lockout_."

The stationary, shattered pieces of the coffee mug on the floor suddenly began vibrating wildly, and distant booming noises rumbled unexpectedly through the ship's metal walls and flooring. The sounds and tremors faded briefly for a few seconds before resuming, louder and much more noticeable this time. The Captain put a hand around Soran's shoulder and eased the man into a chair even as the shaking in the surrounding walls intensified.

"_What_ is... going on now?" asked Soran with dismay. "What is happening?"

"I would guess that the survivors of Starfleet have initiated an attack on this vessel," concluded Picard.

"_A very good guess Jean-Luc. I am discussing tactical options with the Sentinel even as we speak_."

"Well hurrah, hurrah for you and the Sentinel," growled Picard with obvious frustration.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _U.S.S. Relativity_

* * *

As the battle progressed, Lt. Tuvok and Jess Ingram were both busy studying tactical reports analyzing the strength of the _Dokimasia_'s shields. Captain Data had activated his neural link with the main computer so that he could simultaneously monitor incoming telemetry without the constant need to interrupt their work. He stood firmly in his usual position on the bridge's upper level, his hands gripping the metal handrail so tightly that he had to make a conscious effort not to bend the metal. Although the Captain still wore the electronic headgear necessary to connect with the Preserver network, he had temporarily severed his link to it. He had no idea what the Sentinel was capable of, after all, and preferred not to leave his ship and crew vulnerable to an unexpected attack if his opponent turned out to be capable of "bending" the rules that governed use of the subspace resources.

The _Relativity_ and _Nautilus_ had thrown every last scrap of energy they could spare at the alien starship, but the _Dokimasia_'s mighty shields simply deflected the attack and remained fully powered. The Omega energy source within its engine core was simply too powerful for conventional weaponry to overcome and Data found himself unsurprised but extremely disappointed at the outcome. With diplomatic options shrugged aside by the Sentinel, he was fully convinced that more lives would inevitably be lost if he were forced to escalate the confrontation. His orders, for the moment, remained unchanged. Both of the Timeships were focusing their attack toward what they hoped was the most vulnerable point at the rear of the enemy starship - the massive spherical construction housing its mighty engines.

Without warning the bridge lights dimmed and the bridge suddenly rocked violently from side to side. Data snagged one of his Ensigns as the man flew past him and almost fell over the safety railing to the lower, port side of the bridge. Other crewmen and women held on tightly as the red alert klaxon once again blared to life, broadcasting a loud warning that previously had quietly flashed brightly on all consoles. The _Relativity_'s hull continued trembling as the first wave of violence subsided, and the starship was unexpectedly rocked again by another surge from the unknown external force colliding with its hull. Ensign Murry's helm console exploded in a geyser of fireworks and smoke, knocking the woman out of her chair backwards onto the deck plating. Tuvok coolly reached down and touched the side of her neck, verifying that the woman had a pulse. As he did so, Lt. Ingram studied the new data and her face paled as she recognized what was happening.

"There are huge subspace vortexes opening all around us!" she shouted, turning toward the Captain and struggling to be heard above the quaking vibrations that continued to pound the ship from all sides. "I'm detecting unknown energy sources inside of them that are disrupting our temporal warp core... our shields are beginning to fail. Either we withdraw _immediately_ or we'll be torn to pieces!"

Data never heard her words. As the second wave of intense gravimetric turbulence slammed into the _Relativity_, his neural link with the Timeship's main computer overloaded and promptly took his positronic brain along for the ride. The Captain fell backwards into the main bank of computer systems along the starboard side of the bridge's upper level, and then he slumped silently to the floor as his neural net deactivated completely.

Jess Ingram was watching from her tactical workstation below and saw him fall. Glancing toward Tuvok, she noticed him nod confidently in her direction. At least for the moment, _she_ was now in full command of the _Relativity_'s bridge. "I'm transferring Ensign Murry's helm functions to auxiliary bridge station four," she told the Vulcan. "Get up there and assist Lt. Antiok... move us away from the area of subspace disruption immediately and contact the _Nautilus_. Order them to do the same damned thing!"

Sprinting up the short flight of steps, Tuvok joined Antiok and the two of them worked hard to promptly comply with Ingram's new orders. Once the Timeship was safely backing away from the area of greatest subspace disruption, he verified that the _Nautilus_ was doing the same. Although he suppressed the emotion, Tuvok felt a distinct note of relief upon noticing that the second starship was safely moving under its own impulse thrusters. Based on the operational status of their own ship, he was not at all certain that they had the necessary power to spare for an emergency tractor beam. As the two vessels retreated steadily away from the _Dokimasia_, the Preserver vessel's shields flickered and flared while dissipating energy one last time and then - once more unchallenged - returned to their fully powered, invisible status.

Lt. Antiok was a tall Xindi Arboreal, and he promptly pulled a tricorder from the belt at his waist, leaned over and began scanning the Captain's inert body. He was still taking readings when Data suddenly opened his eyes and looked up at the staring, down turned faces of Antiok, Tuvok and the other on-duty crewmen assigned to the bridge's upper level.

"I believe we are going to need a new plan," the android stated matter of factly.

From the same position as before, near the bridge turbolift, the Sentinel appeared to them once again. "Yes, you are going to need a new plan," he declared boldly while watching Tuvok help Data to stand. "Upon closer inspection, your damage control teams will discover that the temporal warp cores of both Timeships no longer function properly." He stared spitefully at Data. "You now have _fewer _options than you did before you attacked me. You can no longer return to your own timeframe without the temporal shielding of your starships. If you do so, the signal from my probe network will kill all of you instantly."

Captain Data motioned to the security team guarding the lift door, both of whom nodded and drew their weapons. "You are no longer welcome to board this vessel without first requesting an audience," the android declared. The Sentinel stared at him in shock, clearly astonished at the android's outright defiance. Data remained firm in his stance. "Get off my ship," he snapped, deliberately allowing the electronic simulation of rage generated by his emotion chip to sharpen his tone of voice.

"I could have destroyed both of your Timeships with a simple snap of my fingers," the Sentinel replied fiercely. "I still can, for that matter. _Why_ do you continue to test my patience? Do you want me to destroy the rest of you? Do you really want all of humanity to fade into history?"

"I do not negotiate with hostile invaders who commit murder and issue ultimatums," Data declared. "My analysis of your subspace network has revealed that there are extensive protocols in place to ensure that the privacy of its users is protected and the abuse of its resources prevented. It is too bad that your government has failed to enact similar measures outside of subspace."

The Sentinel pointed an index finger angrily at the Captain. "I'm _warning_ you android..."

Data's response was to deliberately redirect his attention toward the pair of security officers. "If the Sentinel is still aboard this ship in ten seconds, shoot him," he ordered commandingly.

"Have it your way," snarled the Sentinel, reaching up with his right hand to tap the side of the RI-CAD headset. His body faded to a transparent state with clouds of swirling green energy circling the fading image like angry ghosts. Seconds later, everything vanished and the enigmatic alien humanoid was gone.

The smoke-filled bridge was silent for a brief time. Conducting a brief visual survey, Data was able to verify that all of the major fires had been extinguished. A medical team exited from the turbolift and immediately moved toward the unconscious Ensign Murry, busying themselves with an evaluation of her condition.

"It's all right... she's going to be okay," one of the medics noted with satisfaction as she injected the Ensign with a hypospray to stabilize her condition.

"Forgive my curiosity Captain," said Tuvok. "Was it wise to confront the Sentinel so aggressively? He is obviously not deceiving us when he claims to have the capability to destroy us whenever he chooses to do so. Since that is the case, I hope you are aware that your response to his latest visit was a substantial risk to everyone aboard both Timeships, and might very well have provoked him into following through with his threats. He does not appear to be the type of being who makes idle threats."

Data nodded in response to the Vulcan's words. "If you have additional opportunities to do so, observe him more closely," the Captain suggested. "The Sentinel has been in charge of so much for so long that I believe he has lost the capacity to think of us as intelligent beings - as equals. To him we are cattle... perhaps even lower on the food chain than that. My behavior on this occasion was intended to shock him back to reality - to remind him that we are sentient life forms similar to his own species and are capable of making our own decisions... of setting our own direction in life. He may refuse to accept that concept, but I have high hopes that the next time we meet he will at least show us a bit more courtesy."

"Risky," Ingram commented. "Extremely risky."

"Agreed," acknowledged Data. "However, I hope everyone agrees that our purpose here is also to divert attention away from Commander Ducane's team and from the _Hillyer_. In that regard we have certainly been successful." He helped an injured crewman to his feet and nodded reassuringly at the man. "I would appreciate it if everyone would return to their stations and initiate full damage control procedures. Lt. Antiok, please contact the _Nautilus_ and request that they update us as to their own status."

"Aye sir."

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _Preserver Guild Eco-Support Vessel 19973_

* * *

Seven of Nine remained in her comfort zone, continuing to provide tactical and logistical support to Commander Ducane as the huge Preserver vessel orbited closer and closer toward the _Dokimasia_. The two of them stood in front of the large, central command console on the bridge while they carefully monitored the ship's status indicators. Only occasional course adjustments were necessary since they had unexpectedly lumbered into the center of a large convoy of shuttles and other larger support vessels.

"All of those other ships had no choice but to stand by and wait," noted Ducane. "Their commanders were understandably concerned about trying to dock with the mother vessel during an all out battle with two enemy starships."

Captain Janeway was also present, silently assisting Seven in a team effort to efficiently coordinate the huge number of tasks currently running on the Guild vessel's main computer. The alien workers had obeyed the recall order and allowed the Starfleet personnel to secure all decks and launch the ship into orbit, but since then everything had gotten progressively more and more difficult. For one thing, the crew hadn't been at all happy about simply detaching all of the hoses and cables emerging from the large vessel and leaving behind all their equipment. At first the problems were manageable and the communications station was simply flooded with dozens of requests for additional information, but shortly thereafter the stunned, confined bridge workers had awakened and telepathically warned everyone else on board that the vessel's bridge had been commandeered.

"Now that the fighting out in space has ended, the shuttles are receiving clearance for landing in the ventral docking bay," observed Seven. "However, because we have a massive generator 'malfunction' in progress, the _Dokimasia_'s central computer has bumped our priority up for docking with the central spine." She gave Janeway a cautious gaze. "Either they're on to us or the _Dokimasia_ commander truly believes our request for emergency maintenance is a valid one."

"It helps matters considerably that Captain Data chose this particular timeframe to initiate an attack," Ducane decided. "With all of these ships backed up and waiting to land, the deck crews will have fallen considerably behind schedule. Under normal circumstances, our emergency would have attracted a great deal of extra attention. Now we're just part of the chaos."

As he spoke, pulsating flashes of phaser fire from out in the adjoining corridors continued to light up the inside of their room. The reassuring voices of Tom Paris, Harry Kim and Neelix could be heard issuing warnings and shouting orders between weapons salvos. The _Voyager_ crew had only recently met the travelers from Archer's era, so those voices were not as familiar to Janeway and Seven. However, the sounds of fighting from both corridors continued to rage, and it was clear that - for the moment - both Starfleet defensive teams were successfully holding onto control of the adjoining corridors.

Ducane cleared his throat nervously as he studied sensor data, and Janeway took careful note of his anxiety. "Nothing ever goes as planned Commander," she reminded him, speaking up for the first time in quite some time. "We didn't anticipate that the unconscious workers would spread a telepathic warning once they woke up from their stunned condition... it's one of those things that just happens during chaotic conditions when things happen so quickly. We've got our troops on the job and dealing with the situation, so relax. I for one am still very pleased that we haven't killed any of them. It will make reaching out to the leaders of their population and initiating a dialogue much easier."

"If we survive long enough to open relations with them," the Commander replied tersely. "This is my mission and my responsibility... Captain Data will hold me responsible for its outcome."

Seven pointed toward the sensor screen, which clearly displayed all ships currently hovering in orbit above the planet. "Captain Data currently has problems of his own to deal with," she indicated. "Those subspace ruptures that opened caused considerable structural damage to both Timeships. Their temporal shielding is off-line and they were forced to retreat under partial impulse power."

"Can you determine whether or not there are casualties?" asked Ducane with concern.

"Not without a full sensor scan," Seven informed him. "And I would not recommend initiating one... if we switch on those systems and begin scanning enemy vessels it will surely draw unnecessary attention to this ship."

"Agreed," said Ducane with a satisfied nod. "Let's not waste this opportunity to approach a distracted enemy. I just hope everyone on those two starships will be okay." He studied the tactical images of the _Dokimasia_ as they continued to close the remaining distance between their ship and the mother ship. "It looks to me as though we have a predetermined docking point," the Commander observed, pointing toward a position highlighted in red. "We're supposed to dock right _here_."

Seven nodded in agreement. "Once we close to within two thousand kilometers, the main computer aboard the _Dokimasia_ will automatically take wireless control of our systems, including the docking process. The procedure is a necessary safeguard against accidental collisions, which could severely damage - if not destroy - an Omega-powered vessel such as this one."

Ducane picked up a phaser rifle and adjusted the beam intensity to a high level stun setting. "Then, if you ladies have everything here under control, I hope you don't mind if I give the others a hand."

"We _ladies_ are doing just fine," Seven replied wryly, the cynicism in her voice obvious.

Janeway flashed the very efficient Seven a knowing smile. "He's young," the Captain reminded her. "And, admittedly, this _is_ his first mission in defense of an entire galaxy."

Captain Archer, Nathan Dunne, Ted Meyers, and Ensign Burkette were busy assisting Captain Sisko in a fearless defense of the starboard doorway. That left Harry Kim, Tom Paris, Neelix and Commander Tucker to defend the opposite door along the port wall. The Doctor was standing close behind the Talaxian for the rare situations when more than four weapons were needed, but the port doorway was much less accessible and therefore considerably easier to defend than its starboard counterpart. Noticing that the Doctor was available if needed, Ducane shouldered his rifle and took a step toward the other, starboard doorway where the fighting was toughest. He paused briefly as T'Pol turned and regarded him thoughtfully.

"I am continuing to monitor shipboard telepathic communications using this transceiver," she informed him, gesturing to the smaller console in front of her. "I suggest we be ready to leave this area prior to the completion of our docking maneuver. The aliens are fully aware that they have invaders on board, and once we cross within the two thousand kilometer boundary that Seven mentioned, the _Dokimasia_'s main computer will instantly receive an update on the situation taking place aboard this vessel. When that happens, our holographic disguises must be in place and we will have to be somewhere else... hopefully blending in with other members of this crew. Otherwise, prompt capture is assured."

"Noted Subcommander," Ducane replied tensely, glancing back at Captain Janeway. "Please try and give us at least sixty seconds warning before we have to transport out of here to other areas of the ship."

As Janeway nodded in response to his request, Thomas Ducane leaned out into the starboard corridor and promptly began firing phaser pulses at the alien workers trying to recapture control of their ship. Weaponless but determined, dozens of them swarmed relentlessly toward the Starfleet personnel.

"I thought all decks were supposed to be locked down!" shouted Sisko angrily. "How are they managing to route so many bodies to this level so quickly?"

"It's got to be emergency crawlways," decided Ensign Burkette, raising her rifle and firing off half a dozen rapid bursts of pulsating orange energy. "Every ship has them, and the first aliens that T'Pol initially stunned have obviously managed to alert their colleagues."

"That's why everyone should be prepared to abandon most of their heavy gear when the word comes in from Captain Janeway," Ducane warned them. "When that happens, we're all going to have to transport to another deck and blend in with the rest of this angry mob. Otherwise they'll be able to identify us instantly, and we'll lose our chance to sneak aboard the _Dokimasia_."

"Can we beam directly aboard?" wondered Archer.

"No," Ducane countered. "Seven of Nine discovered that the central computer on the mother vessel runs everything. If we don't look and behave exactly like everyone else on this ship when it docks, we're going to be instant prisoners." He too continued firing at the alien bodies charging rapidly down the corridor toward them. As the ship's crewmen fell stunned their bodies began to pile up. Those behind them angrily pushed their way through and continued trying to reach the bridge entrance. "I just hope none of these people try to 'talk' to us telepathically," the Commander mused between phaser bursts. "I don't know about you, but I just don't understand enough of the technique!"

"Stick close to T'Pol," Archer instructed. "She'll be able to cover for you long enough for you to get aboard with whatever it is that you're carrying in that shoulder bag of yours."

Ducane paused his phaser fire long enough to smile wistfully at the _Enterprise_ Captain. "My bag contains a chain of stabilized Omega molecules," he responded, the growing agitation in his voice noticeable. "Once we're aboard the _Dokimasia_, it's my job to _destabilize_ them." He shrugged his shoulders and then resumed firing. "Since Captain Data has been unable to reach a diplomatic solution, this has become our best chance to stop them. If we blow up the _Dokimasia_ and stop the Sentinel here, hopefully the Timeship damage control teams can make repairs. That will allow the Captain a chance to prevent the initial temporal incursion that planted the Preserver probe network in our galaxy."

Sisko hesitated just long enough to glance back at the Commander. "_Wonderful_ mission plan," he declared. "Never before have I fought this hard to survive so that, if successful, we'll eventually have an opportunity to blow ourselves up!"

"Unfortunately, that _is_ the way things have worked out on this occasion," Ducane replied.

Working together as a trained, cohesive attack force, the Starfleet personnel continued firing their phasers in defense of the captured bridge.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, _U.S.S. Hillyer_

* * *

Captain Raphael Snyder had slowly watched his 48 hour deadline expire with growing frustration and severe feelings of helplessness at the prospect of sacrificing his ship and crew. Desperate to find some other alternative than resorting to additional killing, he had even allowed an extra hour to pass. Unfortunately, the other two Timeships remained hopelessly crippled, hanging helpless in space near the enemy cloaking sphere. Even worse, there had been absolutely no indication that Commander Ducane's infiltration team had accomplished anything significant.

"It's time," Snyder decided finally, taking a deep breath and fighting to control his anxiety. "Lt. Jonas, plot a wide arc around the cloaking sphere. Prepare to accelerate to maximum warp around the Kovar system. Once we're far enough away from them, I want you to adjust our heading back toward that unknown mystery planet and align us on a direct collision course toward the _Dokimasia_. Your target is their engineering sphere at the rear of the vessel. We'll hit their shields at full speed."

Jonas' expression looked like a person on the verge of fainting, but the young helmsman nodded in reply and began laying in the proper coordinates. "Aye sir," he said grimly.

"I have made considerable progress with Captain Data's notes," pointed out Frank Roberts. "If the engineers and I had a little more time..."

Snyder shook his head no. "Orders are orders, and we're fresh _out_ of time Commander," he said decisively. "Every moment we remain here is a chance that the _Dokimasia_ may detect us. If they do, they can also disable our ship using those subspace vortexes of theirs and our opportunity to carry out this plan will be gone. He cast an anxious glance in the direction of Joe Carey. "I'm truly sorry, Lieutenant... you and your _Voyager_ colleagues are guests aboard this ship. You deserve better..."

Carey accepted the situation better than Snyder expected him to. "We all knew the risks when we transferred over," the Lieutenant replied. "It's our galaxy too, regardless of what century we're from."

"A collision course with the _Dokimasia_ has been plotted and laid in sir," Lt. Jonas informed them. "Our cloak will prevent detection until we exceed warp nine. I'll keep us slower than that until we're far enough away to reverse course."

"Even if they detect us once we pass warp nine, it will be too late for evasive maneuvering... even for that computer of theirs," noted Commander Roberts.

Jonas double-checked the helm settings and then nodded confidently toward both senior officers. "We'll hit their shields at warp 9.9775," he replied, his mood lightening slightly.

"That ought to do the trick," nodded Captain Snyder. "Initiate the collision course, Mr. Jonas."

_And may God have mercy on our souls_, he thought silently.


	15. Never Before And Never Again

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XV: Never Before And Never Again**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, near the Kovar system, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

Traveling at warp nine, the _U.S.S. Hillyer_ continued accelerating as it curved sharply back toward the Kovar star system and aligned itself on a collision course with the _Dokimasia_. Seconds later, the Timeship briefly achieved warp 9.9775 as it rocketed directly toward the enemy Preserver vessel.

_And then it suddenly, inexplicably vanished..._

* * *

"The capabilities of the Preserver race continue to astonish me," noted Lt. Jessica Ingram as she studied the newest incoming sensor data from her workstation on the _Relativity_'s bridge. "The subspace vortexes that opened around us during our earlier battle were filled with some kind of invisible dark matter... just enough so that each of them pulled at us with enough gravitons to damage - but not destroy - our engine core. Similarly, the technology that would be needed to track and stop the _Hillyer_ from colliding with the _Dokimasia_ in the few brief seconds when the Timeship's speed betrayed her position... well, suffice it to say I've never seen anything quite like this before."

Data listened curiously to her analysis of the latest information. "Where is the _Hillyer_ now?"

Lt. Ingram shrugged in reply. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Their warp trail leads right up to the edge of the cloaking sphere, less than five kilometers from its outer edge. Then the whole starship just vanished without a trace... there isn't any indication that it entered any kind of wormhole or subspace rupture. The entire vessel is just... _gone_."

The Captain shook his head negatively. "Unlikely. It is probable that our sensors are simply not efficient enough to detect precisely what took place."

"I'm using our most _sensitive_ equipment," Ingram pointed out, raising an eyebrow at his doubts.

"Still, we are dealing with a technology that is completely alien to our own," Data reminded her. The amber lights on the headset interface that he continued to wear unexpectedly lit up brightly. "I will be back in a few minutes... perhaps the enhanced capabilities of the subspace Preserver network can tell me something that our own sensors missed."

_In the blink of an eye, Captain Data vanished..._

"I've seen that trick demonstrated several times now, and it's more than a little creepy to watch," Ingram decided, glancing apprehensively at Tuvok. "I really wish that he would _stop_ doing that."

The Vulcan nodded in response. "Agreed," he replied, raising an eyebrow for emphasis.

* * *

There had been a blinding, bright white flash and then everything had gone dark. Captain Raphael Snyder had covered his eyes with his right forearm to shield them from the unexplained glare. After the intense flare-up of light faded just as quickly as it had arrived, he lowered his arm and glanced curiously around the _Hillyer_'s small bridge. Everything looked and felt completely normal, except that all major shipboard functions appeared to be powered down. The computer stations and viewscreens were all dark and powerless; they could hear only silence surrounding them. The low, vibrating rumble of the ship's temporal core was gone... very rarely was the bridge of a Timeship so eerily dim and silent.

"We definitely should have hit them by now Captain," decided Lt. Jonas with growing puzzlement.

"Well we didn't," declared Snyder with a wry smile. He glanced over the top of the safety railing at the officers sitting quietly below him. "I don't suppose anyone would care to give me a status report."

"It's difficult to tell you anything useful sir," Joe Carey replied, a trace of amazement in his voice. "At this point what you see is what you get... all major systems on board appear to be completely powered down, cause unknown."

Standing next to Snyder, Commander Roberts opened up a 29th century tricorder. Its internal power activated properly and he immediately began conducting a survey of the ship and everything surrounding it. The small device whirred electronically for several agonizing minutes as it analyzed the immediate vicinity and then it began beeping loudly, summarizing the results of its scan.

"We're inside the _Dokimasia_," reported Roberts crisply. "Somewhere in the ventral hangar bay, to be precise. Although the shuttle bay is primarily compartmentalized, its length extends almost one hundred kilometers along the bottom of the ship's central spine. Its width is over forty kilometers."

"How can we be _inside_ the ship?" wondered Jonas. "Captain, we were traveling at _maximum_ warp..."

Roberts continued to watch summary data scroll by on the tricorder's small screen. "And now we're not, Lieutenant. Somehow the _Hillyer_ has been transported aboard the planet pusher, its forward momentum eliminated, and the temporal engine core shut down." He moved to stand next to Snyder. "Captain, all of these events had to have occurred within a fraction of a second. Such a quick response to our attack should not be physically possible, according to the normal physical laws of our universe."

Snyder displayed his own emotions regarding the matter by shaking his head with disbelief. "Obviously, we're dealing with someone who is capable of adjusting those laws as he sees fit," the Captain replied grimly. "What about main power? Can we bring the engines back on-line?"

The Commander adjusted his tricorder, focusing its scan on main engineering. "Negative. There is a powerful force field in place around the temporal engine core," he noted. "It is also acting as a dampening field... draining all major energy output and effectively disabling our systems. Everything except our backup battery power and critical functions, such as life support, appear to be off-line."

"_Of course they're off-line_," an unexpected, angry voice snarled harshly. "Did you _really_ believe I would simply allow you to blow up everything that I'm trying to accomplish here?"

Snyder whirled, pulling free his sidearm and aiming it at the Sentinel. The alien Preserver had unexpectedly appeared out of thin air, right next to the small flight of stairs at the center of the bridge, accompanied by four of the gray-skinned aliens. Reacting instantly to the Captain's unexpected movement, the Sentinel held out a hand and a sharp blast of emerald energy from his fingertips lifted Snyder completely off of his feet and sent him flying backwards into the computer consoles behind him. His body struck the exterior metal surface with a loud thud and - physically stunned - he collapsed instantly to the metal flooring.

"You humans are being led to extinction by an _android_..." the Sentinel growled angrily. "Do you really want to continue letting _him_ decide your fate? Do you really want to continue trusting him with the future of your _entire_ species?"

"He is the commander of our surviving fleet," Commander Roberts responded, leaning over cautiously and checking the Captain for a pulse. Satisfied that Snyder was merely dazed, he rose to his full height and nodded toward Jonas. The Lieutenant immediately crossed the bridge to lend a hand, and together he and Roberts helped the Captain slowly back to his feet.

"I'm all right," Snyder insisted forcefully. "Just give me a minute to shake a few cobwebs out of my head."

Commander Roberts pointed toward the four aliens flanking the Sentinel to his left and to his right. "You have captured our ship and brought troops aboard without first asking permission... do you expect us to lay down our arms and simply trust you?"

A wide smile crawled across the sharp-jawed features of the Sentinel. "These aren't _my_ troops," he replied coolly, waving a hand confidently. "They are in fact, _yours_..."

Holographic images of alien bodies faded instantly at the Sentinel's latest gesture to reveal the familiar faces of Thomas Ducane, Jonathan Archer, Benjamin Sisko, and Kathryn Janeway. Each of them wore a mobile emitter attached to the upper right shoulder, and each of the devices had immediately begun to spark and malfunction as soon as the Preserver Commander motioned in their direction.

Ducane studied the familiar sight of a Timeship bridge. "What the devil went wrong?" he asked, glancing at Sisko with genuine puzzlement.

"Apparently we weren't as successful disguising ourselves as we thought we were," guessed Archer.

The Sentinel snorted with derisive laughter. "Briea has been tracking you ever since you transported aboard our Eco-Support Vessel and hijacked it," he grinned. "Her domain extends far beyond the exterior hull of my planet pusher... much farther in fact than the boundaries of this star system. We've been monitoring your futile attempts to try and destroy us because - until now - I was extremely curious as to just how low you would sink in order to succeed." He shook his head, dismayed. "Quite obviously, your own survival has become secondary to your determined quest for vengeance."

Sisko pointed his rifle at the Sentinel. "Do not be so quick to confuse vengeance with _justice_," the Deep Space Nine Captain declared fiercely.

Again the Sentinel laughed uproariously, holding out both hands in mock surrender. "Fire away Captain," he suggested. "If you can, that is. Do you really believe I can do all of this..." he waved at the darkened, powerless bridge of the _Hillyer_ surrounding them, "...without also possessing the capability to disable a few insignificant particle weapons." He smiled knowingly at Ducane. "Perhaps you should check your shoulder bag, Commander," he said, his tone of voice sounding extremely condescending. "I think you'll be surprised to discover that your entire supply of Omega molecules is also missing in action." He continued chuckling contemptuously as Ducane promptly unbuckled the safety straps on the portable briefcase and verified that the Sentinel's claim was indeed an accurate one.

"You son of a..." Ducane trailed off angrily.

Janeway surveyed the bridge personnel surrounding them with obvious concern, searching for the other members of their away team. Aloud she said nothing.

The Sentinel watched her reaction with an amused grin. "Don't worry about your colleagues in crime, Captain Janeway," he told her. "There were fourteen of you who seized control of my Guild vessel..." he told her informatively, "...that is, if we count that holographic physician or yours. Since Captain Data has now failed you utterly, perhaps you will begin taking orders from the photonic Doctor!"

Janeway's eyes narrowed as she stared the Preserver down. "_Where are they?_" she demanded heatedly.

"I find it very arrogant of you to even consider yourself in a position to ask such questions of me," replied the Sentinel with equal disapproval. "Your people are safe enough... as with you, their mobile emitters have been disabled and they have been transported to this vessel's engineering deck. All of the people from your strike team are now my prisoners, along with the entire crew of _this_ ship." He continued chuckling with satisfaction. "_If_ you can find a way to penetrate my force field, perhaps your gang of thugs can assist the _Hillyer_'s crew in restoring main power." The Sentinel's amused mood persisted, as did his verbal mockery of the Starfleet officers. "Three of your Timeships have now been completely disabled and are at my mercy. If your fleet commander has any more of them hiding out there, I strongly suggest that they continue... _hiding_."

Captain Snyder was holding his bruised left shoulder with his right hand, but he stepped forward as confidently as he had during his first attempt to confront the Sentinel. "How did you manage to stop my ship?" he asked curiously. "I've seen all kinds of advanced technology during my time with Starfleet, but what you have done here today far surpasses the capabilities of any mere electronic device."

The Sentinel nodded. "Correct Captain Snyder," he agreed. "And congratulations... we have here at least one person who has been paying attention and learning something from all of this."

"If not electronics, then what...?" Sisko trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his next question.

"Ironically the android who has failed all of you probably understands things better than anyone," decided the Sentinel. "After all, he has visited our subspace network on several occasions now and observed firsthand how the Preservers organize things. Technology is very useful to be sure, but it is even more effective in assisting us to do the things we want to do if we first understand the nature of our universe... if we can grasp just how space, time and subspace were woven together." He waved a hand and - in a very Q-like manner - there was a bright flash of bright light that suddenly revealed a startled looking woman with dark hair and skin. She appeared directly in front of Sisko, and his eyes widened immediately as he recognized her.

"_Jennifer_.." Sisko gasped with both shock and surprise.

"Ben?" the woman returned his gaze with equal astonishment, her twinkling eyes fastening firmly on his own dark eyes.

"Is this _truly_ your long dead wife, somehow brought back from the dearly departed?" wondered the Sentinel with a wry smile. "Can it really be her Captain Sisko, or is it just some sort of fabrication created by me using your memories... something similar in nature to your holographic technology but at the same time completely different?"

"It certainly _looks_ like her," Sisko responded. "But then, I have run into doppelgangers before."

"Remember Benjamin, your wife _died_ at Wolf 359," the Sentinel reminded the Captain. "So how could this _truly_ be her?" He waved the same hand in the opposite direction and the woman disappeared as quickly as she had arrived. "You see, the android is correct in his belief that the Preserver network can assist him in defeating me," the Sentinel admitted. "However, he does not yet understand enough about its intricacies... about the ties that bind together space and time. The very fabric of reality must first be understood in order to properly make efficient use of those resources. It took us many millenia to figure out how things are created and to identify the special nature that defines the physical laws of our universe. Things like timelines, alternate universes, subspace and the reality that each of you perceives each and every day, when examined even deeper than the microscopic level, have a very special meaning for us. Your Captain Data has proven himself to be very adept at studying our technology, but - unfortunately for you - he is thousands of years behind the Preservers on the _evolutionary_ scale. We understand _how_ and _why_ things work the way they do, while he sees only electronic hardware and software that are similar to his own design. Unfortunately for him, those devices rely totally upon the laws of our universe remaining constant in order to operate properly."

"If it's a choice between him and you, my bet remains with Captain Data," decided Commander Ducane.

Once again the Sentinel held up his hand and gestured confidently. There was another bright flash, and a humanoid dressed in a _Hillyer_ uniform appeared at the center of the bridge. The startled male crewman's skin and eyes were pale gold, immediately identifying him as one of the traditional Data-Class androids serving in Starfleet. "I have reviewed the crew roster from your main computer and identified the native species of all humanoids serving aboard this vessel," declared the Sentinel sharply. "Although the rest of you are welcome to remain aboard the _Dokimasia_, this person unfortunately is not."

"Ensign Markus," said Captain Snyder as he immediately recognized the crewman.

"Captain, what is going on?" asked the android curiously, glancing uncertainly in the Sentinel's direction, then to Commander Roberts and finally back to Snyder.

"I don't know Ensign," Snyder told the android truthfully. Addressing the Sentinel directly he growled, "What _is_ going on?"

"I have come to the conclusion that I do not _like_ sentient androids," the Sentinel spoke up before anyone else could. "The _Relativity_ Commander is plotting to rewrite my main computer's software even as we speak, hoping to cause a major disruption of activity aboard my starship. Unfortunately for you Ensign Markus, Captain Data's actions and the capabilities unique to his android species have also condemned you. I cannot take the risk of keeping a computerized mind with your abilities active and functioning while the _Hillyer_ remains aboard my ship, and it must remain here a while longer."

Markus held up both hands protectively in front of him as a haze of green energy appeared out of nowhere and surrounded him, rapidly dwindling in size. Seconds later the Ensign struggled futilely to break free of the collapsing force field. Before everyone's eyes, the android's outer shell was instantly crushed and his internal structure completely destroyed. The shattered remnants of Markus' body fell sideways and crashed loudly to the deck plating. Blue electrical discharges from the android's internal power source crackled briefly across the surface of his uniform as clouds of white electrical smoke drifted upward. Ducane glared at the Sentinel furiously, his anger white hot.

Snyder immediately stepped forward, his own rage uncontained. "What have you _done?_" he demanded. "What gives you the right to _murder_ a member of my crew?" he demanded fiercely.

The Sentinel regarded him contemptuously. "In case you haven't noticed, Captain, _I_ am in complete control of who lives and who dies in this galaxy. The decision as to whether or not your species will be allowed to survive is entirely in my hands, so I will warn you one last time to be extremely careful not to provoke me further."

"You are aboard _my_ ship..." Snyder began.

"...and your ship is now on board _mine!_" replied the Sentinel angrily. He shook his head angrily from side to side. "If you wish to continue taking orders from that android on board the _Relativity_, then that is your choice to make Captain. Feel free to continue wasting your time here. Meanwhile, the _rest_ of us will be busy deciding the future of humanity."

_As quickly as he had appeared, the Sentinel disappeared from the bridge. Archer, Sisko, and Janeway also vanished with him, leaving behind a very perplexed Commander Ducane._

"Why didn't he take me too?" Ducane wondered out loud.

"Because you also serve aboard a Timeship are loyal to Captain Data," speculated Commander Roberts. "It appears that the Sentinel has developed an extreme dislike for artificial life forms. Given the nature and considerable amount of information that Captain Data has been able to accumulate on the Preservers in so very short a time, it is understandable why he feels so strongly."

"So much for our plans to stop the Sentinel," growled Ducane with obvious frustration. His gaze swung from the bridge crew to the dormant workstations and the dimly lit bridge. "Do you have auxiliary power of any kind?" he asked. "Batteries? If we could get at least a few of your weapons working..."

Commander Roberts shook his head in disagreement. "It won't work Commander," he said to Ducane. "There is an unknown, powerful force field surrounding our temporal engine core, draining off all of the energy it produces. Our battery power is busy powering essential backup systems such as life support. Our entire starship is sitting in the middle of a depressurized compartment in the _Dokimasia_'s hangar bay... I'm afraid that - for the moment at least - we're trapped here." He cast his eyes downward, in the direction of the smashed, still smoking body of Ensign Markus. "What is this person who can so easily justify killing _anyone_ who stands in his way?"

The Captain gritted his teeth angrily. "We have to find a way to _stop_ this nutcase," he snapped harshly. "At every turn the Sentinel has managed to hinder our efforts... to nullify every resource at our disposal. He has disabled all three of our Timeships, foiled our plans to destroy the _Dokimasia_, and captured everyone from your infiltration team. We must do something, but honestly... what is left for us to do here other than to agree to his terms?" Snyder continued to hold his injured left shoulder, but his expression remained as firm as his doubts.

"_Perhaps I can help._"

Ducane glanced to his left and breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden appearance of a familiar image standing next to him. "Captain Data," he sighed, recognizing the friendly face. "Thank goodness you're okay... after observing the _Relativity_ and _Nautilus_ so visibly damaged in battle, we didn't know what to think."

"_I am once again linked to the Preserver subspace network. One of its specialties is communications, and that is what has allowed me to locate and contact you even while you are trapped here within the_ Dokimasia. _I have received permission to visit with you as long as this transmission emerges from subspace within the Starfleet territory defined by the_ Hillyer_'s outer hull_."

Thomas Ducane glanced hesitantly toward the floor, a feeling of shame suddenly clouding his initial elated reaction. "I failed you, Captain. Our entire strike team was apprehended the moment we stepped aboard the Sentinel's starship. Somehow he was able to identify us even through the holograms and false bio-readings generated by our mobile emitters. We were all confined together in a storage room at first, and then transferred here after the _Hillyer_'s unsuccessful attack."

Data nodded with understanding. "_Your mission to blow up the_ Dokimasia _may not have been completed successfully, but it is still far too early to declare our mission a failure. There was no way for us to have known how sophisticated the Preserver culture is... the intricacies of their subspace network in particular,_" he continued reassuringly. _"Once we entered the Sentinel's sphere of influence, he was able to use the capabilities of the network to identify and spot all anomalies. A successful infiltration of his starship was therefore regrettably not possible, since his sentient computer can monitor virtually everything taking place inside the outer boundaries of their long range sensors_."

"With all due respect Captain, then we _are_ beaten," Snyder insisted. "If not, what would be our next step? What can we possibly do now, with our ships disabled and at least a third of our people captured?"

"_The only way to guarantee failure at this point would be for us to quit_," argued Data insistently. His projected image turned to regard his trusted First Officer with a small smile. "_Commander Ducane, do you recall the words spoken to you by Captain Sisko's mother when you visited her in the Bajoran Celestial Temple?_"

Ducane nodded slowly in response. "Yes, I do," he replied. "Sarah told us to _'watch for the proper path'_, or some other general nonsense like that. It all sounded to me like some sort of whimsical riddle and regrettably wasn't the type of counsel we were hoping to hear from her."

Captain Data responded by pointing past Commander Frank Roberts' shoulder, toward the wall behind him. "_Look closely at the _Hillyer_'s dedication plaque. If I read your final report accurately, Commander, then I believe that she also spoke the words in the quotation engraved at the bottom of the plaque as well_..."

Curiously, Ducane and the members of the _Hillyer_'s bridge crew on the upper starboard level all turned their heads to look at the commemorative inscription as written on the plaque. The usual list of names associated with the construction of the starship was engraved there, along with a quote from a historical American playwright...

"There is a time for departure, even when there's no certain place to go," Commander Ducane read out loud, his eyes widening as he instantly recognized the words. "Why would Sisko's mother quote Tennessee Williams?"

"_Sarah requested specifically that you and Sisko watch for the correct path_," Data continued. "_Based on the reappearance of this quote at this particular point in time, I firmly believe that the presence of the_ Hillyer _on board the_ Dokimasia _is actually the way things were meant to turn out. It is a sign from the Prophets to let us know that we are indeed following the correct path, even if the eventual outcome of this confrontation is not immediately clear to us. Although our efforts have so far proven unsuccessful, it does not mean that our mission to stop the Sentinel has failed. In fact, this quote showing up again at so crucial a moment would seem to directly confirm that Bajor's Prophets believed we would be closer to success at this time than we might otherwise think. Remember, they have the capability to see beyond the linear into alternate timelines_."

An idea struck Ducane. "Can you transport yourself and others aboard the _Hillyer?_" he asked curiously. "Can you beam an armed team on board this starship using the same function within the subspace network that allowed you to transfer Captain Janeway to the planet's surface? If we could get enough of a security team together..."

Data shook his head in reply. "_Unfortunately no_," he responded. "_All external access to the_ Dokimasia _must be approved in advance by Briea, the electronic personality that controls the Sentinel's main computer. Currently I am allowed to interact with any part of its electronic database that I wish to read, but I have been specifically prevented from altering its data or physically interfering with any aspect of the vessel's operation_." The android paused for a few brief seconds. "_Nevertheless, I would like to take a few minutes to download the results of my latest subspace network analysis into the _Hillyer's _main computer for all of you to review_."

Ducane flashed a knowing smile. "You've already got another plan, don't you Captain?"

"_I believe so, Commander_." The image of Captain Data folded his arms confidently in front of him with anticipation. "_There is a great deal that we need to accomplish before the Sentinel returns. I do not believe he is bluffing when he threatens to extinguish the rest of humanity_..."

* * *

James Kirk was seated in the large recreational mess hall when Picard finally located him. Kirk set down the computer padd from which he was reading technical data and looked curiously toward his counterpart. "How did things go?"

Picard thought matters over carefully before responding. "Much of what I heard has to remain private, but suffice it to say that our good Doctor Soran has agreed to undergo a psychological evaluation and accept treatment for his depression," he stated informatively. "I must admit to being relieved at his willingness to take responsibility for himself... if I would have had to make a prediction, it would have been that Soran's conscience was gone for good."

Kirk smiled dryly. "You may be right in the end... addicts have a strong tendency to eventually return to their bad behavior."

Captain Picard retrieved a cup of hot Earl Grey tea from the wall replicator. "Agreed," he admitted. "However, the biggest hurdle that someone with a problem must overcome has always been to first _admit_ that they have a problem. Dr. Soran has now done that, and I firmly believe that he will work toward healing himself harder than he will work for the Sentinel." He sat down in one of the room's comfortable chairs and sighed with relief at the prospect of a few minutes of respite. "I take it the fighting has stopped?"

"Yes, for quite some time now," James Kirk informed him. "From the sound of things, the _Dokimasia_ didn't take much of a beating at all. I've been trying to read, but my mind keeps wandering back to the unknown status of our Starfleet allies out there in space."

"They should be..." Picard paused in mid-sentence, his cup half lifted to his face as an unexpected, brilliant flash of green light temporarily blazed throughout the room. When it faded the Sentinel once again stood among them, surrounded by three people who were surprisingly just as familiar to him. There were so many recognizable faces that he found the experience very similar to running one of Data's historical holographic poker programs.

"Captains Kirk and Picard, may I introduce you to Kathryn Janeway, Benjamin Sisko, and Jonathan Archer," said the Sentinel gracefully, waving a welcoming hand toward the three newcomers. "Hopefully together we can decide the future of the human race. If I leave the decision in the hands of that android Captain, your slim hopes of survival will be lost entirely."

Picard reacted as though jolted by an unseen electric shock. "_Android?_" he repeated. "What android?"

Janeway smiled reassuringly at him and mouthed one word in his general direction, "_Data_."

James Kirk rose to his feet, tightening the silver belt that bound his charcoal colored jumpsuit at the waist. He studied Archer curiously and then glanced toward Janeway and Sisko. "I recognize you from the history books sir," he said to Archer. "However, the other two..."

"They are both Starfleet Captains from _my_ time," Picard said politely to Kirk. "Very experienced, highly qualified Captains, I might add." His attention focused on Janeway. "At last report, I was told that your starship was lost in the Badlands, along with all hands."

Janeway shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "Things have a tendency to change very quickly in Starfleet Captain Picard," she reminded him, shifting her own gaze immediately back to the Sentinel. "On this very special occasion we have allies from the future in play... Starfleet personnel whose job it is to monitor the timeline and intervene in situations such as this one. Apparently, when members of an arrogant super-species begin crawling around our galaxy without first asking for permission, our descendants consider it a _crime_."

The Sentinel flinched at her assessment. "_Arrogant...?_" he gasped, turning toward her with noticeable irritation. "I don't think that I would have chosen that particular adjective to describe me..."

"It certainly looks that way from my point of view," roared Archer heatedly. "You speak repeatedly about the Preservers and their respect for _all _life, and while you give those speeches you trample through our galaxy and leave nothing but death and destruction in your wake. I don't think you respect life at all... I think you have an agenda and that the ends of that agenda justify your means."

The Sentinel studied Archer with a bit of surprise. Of the five Captains, Archer had been the one who normally kept silent up until now. "So you would judge me, Jonathan Archer," the Preserver stated grandly, waving an arm at the 22nd century Starfleet officer with a flourish. "A man who's Doctor regularly sacrifices other life forms to heal his crew... a man who once ordered that same Doctor to grow a clone of one of his crewman, so that tissues from it could be _harvested_ to save that crewman at the cost of the newborn's life." His scornful gaze drifted briefly to the others but eventually settled coldly on the sharp-jawed NX-01 Captain. "You, who committed an act of piracy to preserve the future of your own race, would sit in judgment of _me?_"

Archer hesitated. "There are sometimes tough choices to make in life," he admitted finally. "But my people certainly do not build _policy_ around them, nor are any of those actions permitted rashly." He glared at the Sentinel spitefully. "Your comparisons are completely unfair and based solely on the extenuating circumstances of Earth's Xindi crisis... decisions that I had no choice but to make in order to save my people." Seething, Archer sat down on the edge of the room's couch and directed a dagger-like stare toward their opponent. "For the record, once Earth was saved I specifically asked the new Xindi friends that I had made to locate that ship whose warp coil we took and assist them in repairing their engines. I didn't leave them permanently adrift, even after the dangers of the Expanse were removed as a navigational hazard... _that's not the Starfleet way_. Apparently, you only quote facts from history if they support the argument that you're currently trying to make. Those that don't you conveniently ignore."

"You deny your species is a bloodthirsty one?"

Archer glowered at him with scorn. "When you get tired of _talking_, Sentinel, I would really, really enjoy the opportunity to _knock your damn block off!_"

"Lower life forms such as disease-carrying rodents have been used to improve the quality of medicine for centuries," Picard acknowledged, stepping in front of Archer before the other Captain was tempted to try and make good on his threat. "I am somewhat familiar with the non-traditional tactics of the NX-01's physician. My own Doctor has studied many..."

"Your own Doctor has done the _exact _same thing on many occasions..." interrupted the Sentinel. "It is a practice that needs only one definition... what _specifically_ qualifies as a _lower_ life form?" He steepled the fingers of both hands together and smiled grimly. "Certainly your opponents in the wars humanity has fought over the centuries have considered you to be lower life forms, even if you did not choose to return the favor and instead showed them mercy. The definition of life is a purely subjective viewpoint."

"Experiments on non-sentient life forms have successfully assisted with the rapid advancement of medical treatment for many humanoid species," agreed Sisko. "The development of replicator technology, along with our use of sophisticated computer simulations, has minimized the continued need for those experiments. We have evolved away from that practice as our own culture has matured. You, by comparison, are utilizing those flaws from our imperfect past and the questionable behavior in other cultures to rationalize your own behavior and to justify the immoral decisions that you have made."

The Sentinel chuckled darkly. A small part of him was genuinely amused at the reaction his comments had received, but part of him deep down was also very angry. Silently he turned toward James Kirk.

"Don't look at me," Kirk said instantly, raising both hands cautiously. "I'm not a perfect individual either... I have hunted animals and fished on occasion because I like the taste of fresh meat, and I've killed many times in self defense or to protect those whom I have sworn to serve. But I draw the line at simply taking the life from an intelligent being simply because he or she stands in the way of something I want to do. If you're looking for someone to agree with your twisted plans, I can guarantee you it won't be _me_ who enables you."

The Sentinel towered above both Kirk and Archer, his face darkening with a raging, angry response of his own. "I don't _need_ any of you to enable me," he declared fiercely. "What I want to know is whether or not you people are willing to work _with_ me to ensure the continued survival of your species. Otherwise I might as well put all of you down right now and move along to my next project."

"Why didn't you bring Captain Data here?" inquired Sisko. "Or Captain Snyder? They're currently the people best qualified to make decisions regarding this situation. Most of us have limited experience with time travel, but their understanding of temporal mechanics is more extensive. They _are_ in command of our defense..."

"Believe me Captain Sisko, you do _not_ want those people representing humanity in this matter," the Sentinel snarled. He held up a forefinger and thumb, barely an inch apart. "I am _this_ close to destroying all of you right this minute, due primarily to the interference and difficulties caused by that _android_. His resistance has jeopardized the safety of _all_ of you and you don't even realize it."

Picard took another sip from his cup of tea and snorted with genuine amusement at the Sentinel's words. It was quite clear to him by now that his fellow Captains were trying to bait the Preserver and vice versa. "I can tell you exactly _why_ you are reacting so defensively to our stand on this issue." Jean-Luc set the teacup down on a small table in front of him and crossed his arms. "Everything with us is a simple test to you, an experiment designed to measure our reaction and study our ability to think intelligently. It is one of the reasons that you feed people to dinosaurs. Your goal is to determine if we deserve the _honor_ of working alongside of you in ongoing support of the Preserver cause." He smiled confidently. "But you didn't expect there to be survivors, and you certainly didn't expect them to come so close to destroying all of your plans. Just how has this _android_ you speak of caused so many difficulties for you? If it is the android I am thinking of, I expect that he retaliated against you in a very organized, very efficient manner... probably in response to your destroying most of the sentient life in the Milky Way. Well... how _dare _he!"

"He has infiltrated our subspace network and accessed its capabilities to use for his own purposes."

"Yes, I think we are indeed speaking about the very same positronic personality with whom I am very familiar," said Picard with a smile. He glanced over at Janeway for confirmation, and she softly spoke the word "_descendant_" in his direction this time.

As he listened to the continuing discussion, Sisko carefully studied the reactions of the other four Captains very carefully. Kirk looked intrigued by the Sentinel's outrage, Picard continued to express amusement at the Preserver's obvious frustration, while Archer and Janeway betrayed very little outward emotion in their facial expressions. Despite his earlier outburst, Jonathan Archer actually appeared to be the calmest person among the small group of starship Captains. "Would you permit us a few minutes to discuss this matter in private?" the Deep Space Nine Captain asked curiously.

The Sentinel's eyes flashed as he met Sisko's gaze. "_No_," he responded instantly. "Every word, every thought on this vessel is automatically recorded by Briea. She has programming in place that requires her to notify me of any trouble before it starts, but I also have the ability to review logs from any recorded conversation that I choose to at any time. So _anything_ that you humans have to say to me, I suggest that you tell me right here and now while you still have an opportunity to do so."

"Captain Picard and I are _already _working with you," Kirk reminded the Sentinel. "We have studied this vessel, its crew, and its capabilities extensively and suggested many ways to improve your shipboard operations."

"I am aware of that James Kirk," the Sentinel told him. "Many of your suggestions will be implemented on all Preserver vessels once I file my completed report with my central government. Your _cooperation_ is greatly appreciated and one of the reasons I have granted you the extra... latitude... that you have so far received."

"_How_ will our people survive?" asked Archer. "Mr. Dunne, my colleague from the 31st century, has informed me that you have already destroyed most of the intelligent life inhabiting our galaxy. Except for the few starships that survived, it sounds like everyone else has already been... exterminated."

"_The Sentinel has the ability to retrieve people from your history via time travel_," Briea spoke up for the first time, joining the discussion without waiting for an invitation. "_He also has the ability to scan and copy 99.999975 percent of all known humanoid life, including humans. James Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard are currently residing in your galaxy's future and working at their normal jobs. The men you see here are precise duplicates made from a scan conducted by one of our probes. Their personalities immediately diverged from the original humans after duplication, and the differences are solely based on the experiences they have had here aboard the _Dokimasia_ instead of the normal lives of the originals who are still in command of their starships_."

The room was silent for several long minutes during which the five Captains present thought carefully about what they had just heard and discussed. It was Sisko who finally glanced up at the Sentinel, watching the Preserver pace impatiently back and forth as he waited for a response. "I would be willing to work with you," Sisko concluded, "but feel it only fair to confess that I would do so only to stall for time in the hopes that I would find an opportunity to gain the upper hand. If I could overpower or kill you for what you have done to my people, I would not hesitate to do so. Call it revenge or call it justice... _I really don't care_."

The Sentinel received the comment with an unexpected smile. "But I would _accept_ and _understand_ that attitude towards me, Captain Sisko," he replied curtly. "Humanoids have no chance against me, even if they possessed a RI-CAD headset similar to my own. I know too much about the universe and its design to be easily fooled or overpowered... Briea can confirm that part if you do not believe me."

"I would help too," Archer said tersely. "Same reason. In the hopes of eventually getting a crack at killing you for what you've done and to prevent you from doing it to someone else."

"And in the meantime, life forms helped by the Preservers would benefit greatly from your experience and efforts," responded the Sentinel. "Eventually there might be an impasse with one or more of you, possibly even a confrontation. If that happens, I caution you that the odds would greatly favor me."

"What about the people who have died from your probes?" asked Janeway. "Is it too much to ask that you leave our galaxy thriving with life and take only those individuals who have the skills that your people require?"

"I wish there was another way..." the Preserver alien began.

"_There is_ always _another way_," insisted Briea forcefully.

"_Not_ in this case, and _not_ according to my judgment," the Sentinel growled at her. "I _need_ this galaxy if I am to set up a large-scale planet-building effort in order to seed other galaxies with habitable new worlds. Using people from the Milky Way's past will greatly accelerate my ability to spread assistance to dozens of additional galaxies."

"But _where_ do you draw the line?" asked Janeway unexpectedly. "Admittedly, the universe has _millions_ of galaxies similar to this one and you speak of helping _dozens_," she continued, stating her case as honestly and politely as possible. "Can you help them all? That's what doesn't make sense to me, with all due respect. You can't possibly hope to ever help everyone, and by trying to reach too far too fast you have already had to do disastrous, monstrous deeds that will no doubt haunt you for the rest of your life. If they don't haunt you, then you're even more of a villain than I currently consider you to be. So where do you draw your boundaries, Sentinel? At what point do you sketch a line in front of one of these galaxies in need of help and say to yourself, _'sorry, but this is as far as we can possibly go'_."?

"We have had no choice but to define such boundaries in my future," the Sentinel snapped. "On multiple occasions, I might add. Of course there will always be limits as to how much I can accomplish, but I will not rest until my people have done as much as they possibly can." He exhaled sharply, releasing his inner turmoil. "If you would come with me... travel to my future, you would see how much we have accomplished. Considering that my people were almost wiped out by war, the change we have made is an astonishing contrast. If we can begin our efforts at preservation here in the past, _sooner_ than we normally would have, the results by the time my century takes place will be..."

"...you might inadvertently _change_ your own damn future for the worse," Archer cautioned him. "That's exactly _why_ people like Captain Data and Nathan Dunne are constantly watching the timeline in our galaxy, because there are so many life forms with subjective opinions hanging around... people who would shape our future toward their own end. You're trying to do the same thing, but on an _intergalactic _scale..." He paused, his frustration surging out of him unrestrained once again. "What _stopped_ the wars between your people?" he asked with intense focus. "Because if you change things here and now, someone else might gain power they might not have had or your own people might not learn the lessons that they will eventually learn. You might not prevent the wars from starting, and if you don't stop them from ending you will cause the extinction of your own species."

"_Listen to them Sentinel_," Briea spoke up intensely. "_Please, just _listen_ to them... they are not so different than you... they only lack the years of maturity as an evolved race in order to reach the same status as your own civilization._"

"I _have_ listened to them," decided the Sentinel. "I will allow you one night to sleep on my offer and think things over. Tomorrow morning at precisely 0700 I will return for an answer. Those of you who wish to join me will be more than welcome, and - with the exception of additional androids - I will extend that same offer to the crews of the surviving Timeships. The two options I presented to Captain Data have not changed, but you do have a choice to make. The first is to join my cause and assist me willingly or reluctantly. If you choose to decline my offer, then you must leave immediately and find a planet somewhere in this lifeless galaxy to settle down and live out the remainder of your years. Any other action on your part to interfere with my plans from this point forward will be met with swift and deadly retribution."

_In a bright flash of emerald light the Sentinel disappeared._

"We don't have a choice," Picard decided as he continued to mull over the conversation. He glanced at the newest three Captains. "At least Jim Kirk and I are copies... you people have been pulled out of history and out of your own lives because of this."

"None of this has ever been your fault Jean-Luc," Janeway reminded him. "It is _his_... and _he_ will be held responsible for his actions, one way or the other. We may not beat him on this day or tomorrow, but we _will _beat him."

* * *

Aboard the _Hillyer_ bridge, Captain Snyder turned and nodded to Commander Frank Roberts. The First Officer chose two security crewmen from a group of six and - arming themselves with phaser rifles - all three of them stepped up onto the bridge transporter platform. Assisting Lt. Jonas at his workstation, Ducane glanced toward the upper starboard level and nodded.

"We're ready down here," Ducane informed them confidently. "Everyone on this ship is probably going to have an extremely difficult time breathing for a few minutes, but we can transfer enough power away from life support for one quick transport to the Sentinel's private chambers."

"This is never going to work," predicted Jonas doubtfully. "This guy can see _everything_ his ship's computer can... and we're planning to bushwhack him when he returns to his own quarters?"

"_Trust me_," decided Captain Data. "_I have complete access to all of the_ Dokimasia's _schematics. The coordinates for transport are extremely accurate_." His projected, isomorphic image was still standing next to Captain Snyder, and both Captains were very closely monitoring their newest attack plan. "_The Preserver vessel has no need for devices like transport inhibitors within the boundaries of its outer hull since its Omega-charged shields are so perfect_."

"For argument's sake, suppose this _doesn't_ work," Snyder suggested. "The Sentinel is extremely angry and frustrated with us - especially you Captain - for continuing with our non-stop efforts to defeat him. What will prevent him from killing us all outright?"

"_The same thing that has prevented him from killing us through each phase of our retaliation_," Data responded confidently. "_We attacked his vessel directly, tried to ram your ship into his, and had Commander Ducane lead a strike team aboard the_ Dokimasia _with the intention of blowing it to pieces. Every time we fail, it validates the Sentinel's belief in his ability to dominate everything. Everything involving life forms such as ours is just another experiment to him... he feels that he is successfully testing our mettle in preparation for service in his Preserver culture_."

"It is another really _huge_ risk," decided Captain Snyder.

"If Commander Roberts and his team are defeated, then at least we tried one last time," Data responded. "The next time the Sentinel speaks to us, I expect he will demand an immediate answer to his ultimatum. If he chooses instead to continue stringing us along, so to speak, then we will have an opportunity to think of something else and try again."

"We are ready when you are Captains," Roberts declared with a sharp, assertive nod of his head.

Data walked across the bridge until his image stood directly in front of the transporter platform, studying the three men. "_You know what to do Commander_," he reminded the First Officer. "_You need only follow my instructions, and all will go well_."

"Aye sir," Roberts responded.

They waited patiently as Data accessed the _Dokimasia_'s internal sensors. "_By granting me read access to the ship's entire database, the Sentinel has left himself more vulnerable than he realizes_," the android informed them.

"We are also in an extremely vulnerable position," Snyder reminded his fellow Captain. "You are not physically here with us, and even if you were your artificial design does not require an oxygen atmosphere in order to survive."

"_I am with you_," countered Data. "_We have repairs to both the_ Relativity _and _Nautilus _well underway. I am working on additional contingency plans in case this effort fails_." He paused, noting the precise change in sensor readings that he was waiting for. "_The Sentinel has completed his conversation with our five captured Starfleet Captains and returned to his stateroom_."

Snyder turned toward Ducane and smiled. "Energize," he ordered without the slightest hesitation.

* * *

**_Author's Notes:_** The title of this Chapter _"Never Before And Never Again"_ is a direct quote from Benjamin Sisko's proposal to his wife (after knowing her for less than five minutes). I have always liked that quote and found it quite appropriate for this Chapter. _NEVER_ before, to my knowledge, have all _FIVE_ Captains (from the five different Trek series) been together in one room having a conversation. And quite probably, unless someone else decides to come up with one whopper of a plot, it will _NEVER_ happen again. And believe me... coming up with a story antagonist strong enough to play off of _FIVE_ Starfleet Captains during the SAME conversation was not exactly the easiest thing to do!


	16. Departure Angle

_**Author's Notes:**_ _Okay, as many of you have realized by now, this is NOT your average, run-of-the-mill, standard "Star Trek" episode. There have already been several revelations and scenes that - I hope - have knocked your socks off, because that is always my goal when writing these stories. So if you have indeed had your socks knocked off, put them back on and include an extra pair. THIS chapter ought to be a repeat performance._

_And if you're not one of those people who fully connects with what I'm trying to do, then look on the bright side... at least you got exactly what you paid for! -- This a joke! If you've been reading my work, then I truly and graciously THANK YOU! _

_Also, FF dot Net, for some unknown reason, has not restored the ability to click on the picture links on my Profile page. I can only assume that they are not working for any of you either. Therefore, if you're REALLY curious as to what the Dokimasia looks like, assemble the following URL (without the commas and quotes) and paste it into an empty browser window:_

_"http:", __"/", "/", __"i34", __dot, __"photobucket", __dot, __"com/albums/d107/SonOfTed2/Dokimasia3", __dot, __"jpg"_

_And now, onward... the latest, hopefully mind boggling Chapter awaits!_

* * *

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XVI: Departure Angle**

* * *

Beta Quadrant, aboard the _Dokimasia_, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

In a bright flash of green transporter energy, the Sentinel appeared back in his chambers. Fresh, new doubts were foremost in his thoughts as he prepared to settle in for the evening, and he could not forget Jonathan Archer's cautioning words.

"..._you might inadvertently _change_ your own damn future for the worse_," the _Enterprise_ Captain had told him, barely containing his anger in the process. "_You might not prevent the wars from starting, and if you don't stop them from ending you will _cause_ the extinction of your own species_."

The Sentinel was no stranger to time travel and he knew full well from the Captain's history that Archer was equally familiar with its eccentricities. It was a proven fact that small incidents could always have very serious repercussions farther 'down the road' with any given timeline. So it was indeed quite possible that this project - the _entire_ mission, in fact - could easily be derailed by one small, unanticipated incident. By beginning his changes so far in his own people's past, an undesirable alteration of the Preserver future was admittedly more than a minor risk. But the Sentinel still firmly believed that his people had no choice in the matter.

_They had to try_.

As things continued to progress, he had fully expected that the Milky Way deaths would fade rapidly into the background of relatively unimportant issues. His conscience - even though he had coldly pushed it aside to the dark cellar at the bottom of his thoughts - continued to prod him relentlessly. Further, Briea's constant arguments opposing his views were extremely inflammatory and making matters worse. To put the matter to rest once and for all, the Sentinel had decided to add upgrades to her program at the earliest opportunity. He would put the fate of this galaxy behind him only if he thought about matters that were over and done with as little as possible, thus it had become necessary to make certain that Briea immediately halted her ongoing efforts to change his mind.

Casually the Sentinel removed his silver jacket and tossed it onto the backrest of a large, ornately carved wooden chair. He fixed himself a glass of cold ice water from a wall replicator and took a grateful drink, continuing to replay his conversation with the five Starfleet Captains over and over in his mind. It was a habit of his to analyze things from a variety of perspectives, and he doubted that part of his personality would ever change. The Captains were no doubt discussing matters further during his absence, and he reminded himself to listen to that private conversation later. Some of the things they felt most strongly about he was certain they would never say directly to him, and the Sentinel desperately needed to know where they honestly stood on the matter of their uncertain future facing and how far he could trust them.

In his mind a decision had been needed - especially during such tough times as he faced in the distant future that shaped his peoples' present. The Sentinel had been willing to make the tough calls and to live with their consequences, and now found himself equally determined to put the Milky Way project behind him as soon as possible. He set the glass of water down on a small, decorative table and turned toward the bedroom. As he did so the distinct sounding electronic hiss of an active transporter beam filled the room.

"_Sentinel, there is an unauthorized transport in progress_..." Briea warned him.

"I see them," the Sentinel replied grimly, watching three armed _Hillyer_ crewman materialize in front of him. He too had instantly detected the energy beam directed at his quarters, and - as usual - his RI-CAD headset interface allowed him to see everything that she did. "Don't worry," he declared heatedly but confidently. "I will take great pleasure in handling this situation myself Briea."

To say that the Sentinel was frustrated with the continual, non-stop interference from the 29th century Timeship personnel would be an understatement. Anger he had successfully managed to suppress during his earlier conversations with the Starfleet Captains boiled out of him now, and his eyes flashed menacingly at the invaders in the dim lighting surrounding them. These people had once again committed a new atrocity by taking advantage of their temporary presence aboard his ship to invade his private refuge... his _home_. Snarling with rage, the Sentinel activated Briea's defensive force fields and directed them toward the newcomers. He caught two of them instantly, and their phaser rifles landed softly on the carpeted floor plating as the sparkling emerald energy coalesced tightly around their bodies. He specifically narrowed the energy field around the two men's throats, and - gasping for air and clawing at their throats - both of them sank to their knees as they were instantly taken out of the fight.

Commander Roberts had anticipated problems and, instantly recognized the danger waiting for them, he gambled by throwing his rifle directly at the Sentinel's head - even before it finished materializing. The Sentinel had no choice but to dodge the heavy, metal plated weapon and stepped safely out of the way. Roberts himself was moving swiftly, making use of those few extra precious seconds. The third force field missed his torso, catching him partially on his left side and allowing the Commander to force himself past it before it could close in around him. Launching himself in an athletic leap, he tackled his opponent just below the waist. Together the two of them crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs... the whole matter eerily reminded the Sentinel of his earlier battle with James Kirk several days earlier, during which Picard had briefly managed to take control of his RI-CAD.

_Enraged at the persistent boldness demonstrated by his opponents, the Sentinel fought back._

* * *

The unique nature that was an isomorphic projection allowed Captain Data to physically touch objects even though he was not physically aboard the _Hillyer_. Since both he and Captain Snyder had once again sent men into battle, the android made the decision to keep his body tucked beneath subspace and linked to the Preserver network so that he could monitor the outcome of their latest offensive against the Sentinel. Meanwhile, he used the presence of the isomorphic construct - and its ability to touch and manipulate solid objects - to assist Snyder's bridge crew in the cautious transfer of limited energy available to them. Surpassing their expectations, the life support system had barely flickered after Commander Roberts and his strike team transported off the bridge.

"_This advanced isomorphic imaging process is proving to be very impressive_," Data noted as he pulled a hand out of an open access hatch in the deck plating. "_If we are successful in our efforts here, I will recommend that Starfleet begin researching this technology further. Our own holograms have proven useful on many occasions, but this is truly a unique and remarkable variation_."

Snyder had said little since his crewmen beamed away, but he nodded at Data's statement. "It _is_ just like having you on board," he admitted. "Aren't you celebrating a little early though? After all, we haven't beaten the Sentinel yet..."

Data replaced the carpeted access panel and bolted it firmly in place, covering the service area that he had been working with. "_You should have full battery power restored, Lieutenant_," he told Jonas.

The sandy, brown-haired Lieutenant verified Data's claim and nodded confidently in reply. "Life support is stable," he confirmed optimistically. "Although I wouldn't recommend too many more trips through our transporter until we can, at the very least, restore auxiliary power."

Unexpectedly, a bright flash of energy briefly lit up the bridge before fading to reveal the very angry, recognizable figure of the Sentinel standing at its center. "For the record, I wouldn't _recommend_ additional attacks against me either," he retorted angrily toward the image of Data standing slightly to his right. The huge, powerful mass of the Preserver dwarfed the two men he held, one in each hand. Captain Snyder sighed with obvious disappointment as he recognized the captured Starfleet officers as the two that had been assigned to accompany Frank Roberts. Both of them were unconscious, and the Sentinel released them with a flourish and allowed the pair to fall limply to the deck.

"_Where_ is my First Officer?" demanded Snyder angrily.

The Sentinel harrumphed arrogantly at the self-confidence of the _Hillyer_'s Captain.

"You people are not afraid of me, I'll give you that," replied the Sentinel coolly, "Unfortunately, Commander Roberts evaded my initial effort to contain him. I therefore had no choice but to kill him in order to stop his attack on my life. I am truly sorry, but the loss of yet another human life is simply the latest consequence of your decision to continue opposing me."

Snyder raised an eyebrow at the alien's comment and exchanged a wary glance with Data.

"_We have no other choice but to try_," Data replied firmly. "_You have taken away our lives, our family, and our friends... everything that we have ever cared about_."

"Then I believe that the time has come to take your _choice_ away from you," declared the Sentinel ominously. "I hereby retract my earlier offer to allow your Timeship crews to join my cause. That option is no longer available to you." He held up his right hand for emphasis and then brought it down in a burst of emerald-hued fire. When the bright explosion of his departure faded, the dim emergency lighting of the bridge suddenly brightened considerably in intensity as all of the surrounding work stations and viewscreens unexpectedly came back on-line.

Lt. Jonas instantly snapped to alert status and began to study the sensor panel in front of him. He had been hoping that power would somehow be restored and that his console would become active again, so he was quite pleased with this newest development. "We're no longer aboard the _Dokimasia_," he eagerly informed everyone. "In fact, we're no longer within its cloaking sphere. We're back out in space, approximately forty-two hundred kilometers away from the _Nautilus_. Additionally, the Sentinel's force shield has disappeared and our temporal warp core is coming back on-line."

"Excellent," decided Captain Snyder with a wry smile. "We're a fleet again, even if only a damaged one."

"Captain..." Jonas continued as the color drained out of his cheeks. He paused, confirming the new data.

"Report? What is it Lieutenant?"

"The _Dokimasia_ and the cloaking sphere have _vanished_ sir," reported Jonas grimly. "The planet is still there, rotating in orbit around Kovar. However, the larger vessel and all of its support ships... _they're all gone_."

* * *

Location unknown, aboard the _Dokimasia_, Time unknown

* * *

Tom Paris and the rest of Thomas Ducane's attack team - less the three Captains and the Commander himself - were all unexpectedly transported off of the _Hillyer_ and into one of the _Dokimasia_'s large mess halls. Moments after arriving, Paris glanced around briefly at all of the _Voyager_ crewmen and women surrounding them before beginning a slow but methodical search among the sea of familiar faces in an effort to locate his wife. He eventually found B'Elanna standing next to the Doctor, who was eagerly describing to her the details of his recent strike mission.

"We captured one of the enemy support vessels... a really large one," he was telling her. "And we had to fight courageously just to maintain control of its bridge. Unfortunately for us, the entire affair was closely monitored by this vessel's sentient computer and we were captured immediately after docking. But mind you, our effort was nonetheless a valiant one."

"Hi honey," Paris said to Torres, hugging her eagerly and shaking his head at the Doctor. "Are you and the baby okay?" he asked suspiciously, placing a strong hand alongside her swelling belly.

"I'm _fine_ Tom," insisted Torres. "We were so _worried_ about all of you, especially after the _Hillyer_'s 48 hour deadline passed. Everyone was expecting this ship to just blow up at any time... so I don't know why in the world you would be concerned about our safety. Baby and I had the least dangerous part of this effort..." she glanced around at the unfamiliar shaped metal walls and windows. "...at least until now, anyway. Where are we?"

"Somewhere inside the _Dokimasia_, I would guess. Except for the Captains, the rest of us were confined aboard the _Hillyer_ for awhile. After that, we were beamed here suddenly along with all of you." Paris shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know a whole lot about this Sentinel fellow, but I guess I don't blame him for not calling a press conference whenever there's a change of plan." He studied her attractive Klingon features affectionately. "Honestly," he continued. "How are the rest of you doing?"

"We're a little bit disappointed that we haven't been able to mount more of a defensive effort against these invading aliens, but hey..." Torres trailed off as her eyes found one of the windows alongside the outer hull. "Would you look at _that_," she declared ominously.

Paris and the Doctor both turned to follow her gaze and study the view for themselves. Wherever they currently were, the stars were non-existent and the entire ship was surrounded by some kind of wicked looking, pale green mist. As they continued to watch, the massive cloud of energy shrouding the large vessel slowly dissipated, revealing only a vast, empty dark void surrounding them.

"I don't think we're in Kansas any more," Tom Paris predicted softly.

"We're not anywhere _near_ our own galaxy, that's for certain," decided Torres, moving closer to the window and searching for any recognizable star patterns. She was able to locate only occasional pinpricks of light in the void - the normal star-studded background in the vast emptiness of space that they had grown used to as space travelers was missing this time.

They were still trying to puzzle out just where exactly their new course was taking them when one of the mess hall's outer doors suddenly snapped open and Captain Janeway entered. She was followed very closely by Jonathan Archer, Benjamin Sisko, and two very familiar figures that seemed to have leaped to life right out of the history books. "That's Jean-Luc Picard," gasped the Doctor with amazement. "And I believe the other man is Captain James T. Kirk."

Janeway nodded respectfully as she moved to stand next to Paris, Torres and the Doctor. While crossing the room she was immediately joined by Seven, Chakotay and Tuvok. Harry Kim and Neelix also pushed their way through the crowd, anxious to reassemble _Voyager_'s entire command team and evaluate their next move.

"As you can plainly see," Janeway pointed out to them, "the images we saw of Kirk and Picard while aboard the _Relativity_ were not a fabrication. The Sentinel apparently scanned the original two Starfleet Captains and has used some sort of technology to create exact duplicates of them for his own purposes. This is all apparently a part of his larger plan to incorporate human workers, along with a few other select species from our galaxy, into the Preserver Guild of member races."

B'Elanna swung her attention back toward the lengthy row of windows that still showed only empty space in the vast emptiness outside the vessel. "Where are we going?" she asked curiously. "It looks like we're even farther from home now than when we were stranded in the Delta Quadrant."

Sisko nodded in affirmation. "We are," he admitted. "Captains Kirk and Picard have been here since the beginning of the attack on our galaxy, so they are in the best position to provide an explanation."

The remainder of _Voyager_'s crew, along with T'Pol and Trip Tucker, all crowded closer to the small group of Starfleet Captains. Many of them seated themselves at the tables normally used for eating meals in an effort to make room for the group of one hundred and sixty or so people. Everyone from Captain Data's past had - in some way, shape or form - either been working with Ducane's strike team or assigned to one of the Timeships. It was quite obvious that all of the assembled officers and crewmen were eager to hear an update regarding their current status.

"At 0700 this morning, the Sentinel confronted us and issued an ultimatum," began Picard slowly, his eyes moving back and forth while studying the sea of faces in front of him. "It is his belief that the Preserver culture will benefit greatly from incorporating humans into its worker Guilds. He therefore offered us a chance to permanently guarantee the survival of the human race - and all other Federation species represented in this room - by allowing us to join the Preserver cause." Smiling almost triumphantly, Picard turned toward Kirk and nodded.

Kirk grinned wryly. "At 0704 this morning, all five Captains you see here officially refused the Sentinel's offer," he announced.

The crowd of crewmen and women - mostly from _Voyager_'s crew - responded with cheers and applause, temporarily filling the large room with thunderous shouts of rebellious approval. Picard waited patiently for the elation of the Starfleet crew to settle down a bit before continuing. "He can choose to kill us or he can choose to continue holding us as prisoners indefinitely, but the other Captains and I have decided that we will no longer assist him with his efforts to 'improve the universe'. Not unless our entire repopulated galaxy is allowed to thrive along with everyone else."

Among the massive array of red-, gold- and blue-topped uniforms, Seven of Nine emerged. "It is quite probable that he will kill us," she cautioned Picard. "Perhaps we should reconsider."

Sisko shook his head. "It became obvious during our conversation yesterday evening that the Sentinel would never change his mind. We have therefore decided that - if passive resistance is all that we can offer - then that is what we will settle for."

Janeway moved protectively closer to the blonde, former Borg drone that she had counseled and worked with ever since liberating Seven from the Collective. "We have carefully considered the matter and made our decision for two reasons," she informed them. "First and foremost, we have to make a firm stand against the Sentinel's utter disregard for the sanctity of life that once dwelled in our galaxy. Secondly, a major reason that the Preserver government allowed the Milky Way project to proceed was because the remnants of humanity were to be recruited into his worker Guilds. If we make certain that doesn't happen, we may be able to derail at least part of his plan and possibly even protect other galaxies from a similar attack."

"What about our galaxy, and our people?" asked Harry Kim. "Captain Data's orders were quite clear - find a way to force the Sentinel to restore our original timeline."

"It's never that simple Harry," Janeway replied. "I'm certain that Data is still making use of the Preserver network and working to make such an eventuality possible. However, his continued attacks have aggravated the Sentinel to the point where he has temporarily abandoned his project in our galaxy so that he can return to his colleagues and file a complete report."

"They were counting on us - especially Captain Picard and me - to help them improve the command hierarchy of their worker guilds," pointed out Kirk. "Those officials will not want to give up on that option so easily... they have also tried to recruit other species from the Alpha Quadrant and other areas of our galaxy. So far those efforts have proven unsuccessful."

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" asked Commander Tucker. "I don't know about the rest of you, but if you look outside of those windows it's pretty clear that we're not anywhere near where we were a few hours ago."

"No Trip," Archer replied honestly. "We don't totally know where we're going yet... only that it's very far from home."

"It was time to depart," Sisko said mysteriously, causing Archer to look at him quizzically.

"What?" Archer asked.

Benjamin Sisko walked over to stand next to the windows, watching the black void that filled the emptiness outside of the huge starship. "There is a time for departure, even when there's no certain place to go," he replied firmly. "At least Bajor's Prophets feel we're headed in the right direction."

Picard wanted to be certain, and he anxiously held up his hands and motioned for quiet. "Briea," he said sternly. "Where exactly are we going?"

"_The_ Dokimasia _is currently headed to a rendezvous with the Sentinel's colleagues and superiors_," the computer replied, loud enough for everyone in the large mess hall to hear. "_Our precise destination is a small cluster of rogue stars that wander between galaxies... the Preservers use it as a major base of operations for their intergalactic projects. Once we arrive the Sentinel will be required to submit a thorough report of his activities during his time in your Milky Way galaxy. I expect that one of the first questions he will have to answer is specifically why he has chosen to return earlier than planned_."

"We do not wish to help the Sentinel in any way," Picard continued resolutely. "Therefore his colleagues will get no cooperation from any of us."

"_I highly recommend that you change your mind_," the computer countered softly. "_I think that it is very important at this time for you to argue this case before the Preserver Council of Elders_."

Listening to the sound of her voice, Kirk's expression became puzzled. "Why?" he asked.

"_Because Captain Data learned a great deal about the Sentinel's tactical weaknesses during the encounters between Starfleet and the _Dokimasia," Briea informed them. "_Unknown to all of you, he has set in motion a chain of events that will quite probably achieve the outcome that all of you wish to see. Therefore you should cooperate completely in the interim so that you do not inadvertently interfere with his plans_."

"You work for the Sentinel, Briea. You must know that we will need more than your recommendation," Picard decided, placing his hands on his hips and studying the interested faces of the men and women who nearly filled the large mess hall to full capacity.

"_I was asked by Captain Data to give you a message Jean-Luc_," she replied. "_He asked me to specifically request that you give 'cowboy diplomacy' the opportunity to succeed one more time_."

"That's it?" Picard demanded. "I understand the unspoken meaning behind those words, but it is a rather vague way for you to prove your point, isn't it?"

"_I ask for your trust Captain. You are prisoners on board this vessel until the Sentinel chooses to release you. I have no objection to your refusal to cooperate with future operations, but what can it hurt to open up a dialogue with the Preserver Council? It will give Captain Data's plan the time it needs to grow to fruition, and your extensive knowledge and experience as space travelers will greatly assist the Preservers in preventing future bad decisions such as the one that led to the destruction of your galaxy. If I have learned anything about your species, it is that you are _not _quitters_."

Picard glanced uneasily toward the other four Captains. One by one they all nodded in agreement. "It looks as though we're going to trust you, Briea."

"_Excellent_," she replied. "_I will submit a request that you be allowed to accompany the Sentinel to the Preserver Council upon our arrival and provide supporting, firsthand testimony_."

"How do you know that the Sentinel won't object to our presence?" asked Janeway curiously.

"_Because I have the freedom to provide supporting testimony and recommendations of my own_," Briea responded eagerly. "_The Elders rely upon me too for an objective analysis of each Preserver mission that I participate in. If he files an objection and tries to reject my request, it will draw immediate suspicion toward him and to the report that he files_."

Archer leaned in close to Benjamin Sisko and whispered softly, "I hope these Prophets of yours can see the future as well as you believe they can."

"They're usually pretty reliable," the Deep Space Nine Captain replied. "And they have saved the Alpha Quadrant once already."

"Then we ought to be in great shape," decided Archer, sighing heavily.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, Somewhere in subspace, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

_Captain Data carefully transferred his isomorphic self first to the bridge of the_ Nautilus _and then on to the_ Relativity, _making certain to give each starship's command staff an update on the status of events that had taken place aboard the_ Hillyer _during its captivity. He felt mild electronic surprise upon returning to his own bridge, noting that the Sentinel had transported Nathan Dunne, Ted Meyers and Julie Burkette back aboard prior to his departure from the Kovar system. Apparently, the_ Dokimasia _was no longer a welcome place for people from the 29th and 31st centuries._

_Additionally, although _Voyager_ remained securely docked beneath the _Relativity_, all of the Starfleet officers from past centuries - including Archer's group - were transproted back aboard the Preserver vessel prior to its abrupt departure. The extra personnel that had temporarily supplemented the crew complement of all three Timeships had disappeared, one last parting gift from the Sentinel. Accepting the inevitable truth that he could not change things without additional information, Data left Commander Ducane in temporary command of the _Relativity _and terminated his projection entirely. Once again focusing upon the subspace environment around him, the android returned his attention to the Preserver network_.

**A most INTERESTING solution to a very complicated PROBLEM**, _the voice that had become so familiar to him whispered softly within his neural net_.

_Even though everything surrounding him was completely shrouded in darkness, Data nodded in response_. **Tactically I have learned everything I NEEDED to know about the Sentinel and his people during our first three, unsuccessful ATTACKS**, _he admitted_. **The SIMPLEST strategy is usually the best STRATEGY**. _The android hesitated, uncertain as to whether he should continue with his planned line of questioning. His insatiable curiosity unfortunately got the best of him and he decided to interrogate his unseen 'friend' further_. **I have had a GREAT deal of time to analyze this subspace NETWORK of resources**, _he began, sensing that the other was already aware of his suspicions_.

_There was a brief pause before the response came_. **CONTINUE**.

_Data promptly did so_. **I have had MANY opportunities since my initial entrance into THIS network to ANALYZE its composition, he explained. Until recently, I had CONSIDERED you to be a part of the massive operating system that is ESSENTIAL to the proper prioritization and assignment of RESOURCES within this realm**. _He hesitated one last time, but a burst of courage from his emotion chip spurred him on_. **YOU are not part of that OPERATING system governing this network, are YOU?**

**No**, _admitted the unseen entity with the electronic equivalent of a chuckle_. **My VAST resources are a part of this place, and when I sensed that HUMANITY was in danger I made certain to CONTACT you as soon as you discovered this REALM**.

_Data was intrigued_. **WHY?**

_Again, another chuckle_. **Because I have a SPECIFIC interest in what happens to the MILKY WAY galaxy... HUMANITY in particular**.

_Few events in the past couple of hours had seemed as baffling to Data as this current conversation_. **What possible INTEREST could a powerful entity like you have in OUR galaxy, **_he wondered_**. Why would you CARE about what happens to us?**

_The unseen entity paused, carefully considering its response before offering one_. **Because I used to BE human, it finally admitted. At least a PART of me ONCE was**.

_Data's mind, always buzzing with activity during these times when he studied as much of the network as he could suddenly focused solely on this specific conversation. His curiosity had been piqued to the point where even _his_ mind felt impatience during the brief fraction of a second between his questions and the responses offered_. **EXPLAIN please**_, he requested._

_Fortunately for the suddenly impatient Captain Data, the alien entity didn't keep him waiting long._

**Part of ME used to be a human being named WILL DECKER**.

_Immediate understanding flooded through Data like the waters held back by a dam finally being released. His memory instantaneously provided him with the information necessary to fit together the remaining pieces of the puzzle that had been in front of him since his first journey inside the subspace realm_. **You are what was once V'GER.** _He made it a statement of fact, not a question._.

**YES**, _the Decker entity responded immediately_. **The human male and Ilia female parts of me were both crew members on the Starfleet MISSION that initially contacted V'Ger as it approached EARTH. Both of our life entities MERGED with the probe's machine COMPLEX in order to form a new life form... to allow V'GER the opportunity to access HUMAN feelings and emotions**.

**There are still MANY of us who study that mission... who wonder what HAPPENED to you**, _Data informed the Decker entity_. **Starfleet will be HAPPY to finally know that you did SURVIVE the transformation. After all, your sudden DISAPPEARANCE left a lot of questions unanswered**.

**If you ARE to succeed**, _Decker cautioned him_, **then all of your KNOWLEDGE of this place must vanish entirely**.

**Not necessarily**, _countered Data_. **There are WAYS...**

**IF you are to SUCCEED**, _Decker's transmission boomed again...much more loudly this time_, **then your knowledge of this PLACE must vanish entirely**. _The android recoiled slightly at the strength of the latest message, but its intensity very quickly faded back to normal_. **The Sentinel's ATTACK must be prevented BEFORE it occurs... before you discovered his PROBE network and the access CODES that led you here. If you are to successfully RESTORE that which once WAS, you must stop the CURRENT false timeline in your reality before the original is DIVERTED. Even in your century, humans are not YET meant to know about THIS place... the SENTINEL has damaged his own FUTURE more than he can EVER know by altering your PRESENT and leading YOU here. The existence of this network must always remain SECRET to all but a few races**.

**But you are HERE**, _Data protested rather stubbornly_. **You are part HUMAN and yet you know about this NETWORK**.

_The response this time seemed much more impatient. _**As your history records, the Voyager VI robotic probe LAUNCHED from EARTH landed on a machine world**, _Decker replied, his own stance remaining stubbornly insistent_. **It was those same MACHINES - machines also linked with this subspace NETWORK - who enhanced the simple MECHANISM that was the man made probe and created the V'Ger COMPLEX. Like the PRESERVERS, those beings SHARE this network with a select FEW races throughout this universe and other universes very much LIKE it. Because the Decker entity created BY merging with V'GER had no other place to go in your REALITY, the network MANAGEMENT system voluntarily chose to approach and WELCOME us here**.

**I have observed that THE Sentinel has very LITTLE control over what happens in here**, _Data pointed out_. **Like ME, he is FREE to access any and all resources that his PROJECTS outside of subspace require, and like me he is also BOUND by the protocols governing USE of this data... UNTIL those resources leave subspace. There are no laws BINDING what he chooses to do with those resources outside of this realm - and currently he is choosing to ABUSE them.**

**That should not concern you for now CAPTAIN. You are fully AWARE that you have set a PLAN in motion that has a STRONG probability of success**. **If you do succeed, Starfleet will establish a permanent presence within the Preserver culture and gain the opportunity to influence future decisions issued by their central government.**

_The android was less hesitant to celebrate a victory not yet accomplished_. **I know a lot MORE about the Sentinel and this network than I did when this MISSION began**_, he replied._** However, unlike the Preservers my fleet is limited as TO how FAR in the past or present we can TRAVEL to. If needed, COULD my SHIPS make use of the resources here to BOOST our engines and travel all the way to the Sentinel's future?**

**That would not be a GOOD idea**, _Decker informed him_. **You could SEVERELY damage their timeline and cause irreparable damage to people living in galaxies eons ahead of your time. For now, I strongly SUGGEST that your crew instead focus their EFFORTS on repairing the BATTLE damage to your fleet. Ready your ships for a Preserver RETURN to this galaxy.**

_Data's immediate response was the electronic equivalent of a frown._** What assurance do I have that they will indeed RETURN here?**

_Decker, as usual, was astonishingly forthcoming_. **The Sentinel will be required to FILE a complete report to his government immediately upon HIS return. As you know, his analysis of THIS situation - from the beginning - has been severely biased and FLAWED. Either his superiors will order this TIMELINE corrected without further INTERVENTION from you, or you will certainly SEE the Preservers again. Should they choose to PROCEED with their plans, then they intend to make USE of the habitable planets and moons in this galaxy that are now LIFELESS. One WAY or another you will ENCOUNTER them again... so return to your ship and BE patient Data - your own performance during this crisis has been... FLAWLESS**.

**Many of my colleagues are SCIENTISTS and will wish to KNOW more about you... ESPECIALLY your evolution from a human being to the joining with the V'Ger entity. I myself am extremely curious about you, so perhaps in the INTERIM...**

**Return to YOUR ship and be PATIENT**, _Decker repeated_. **Trust me and trust YOURSELF**.

_Somewhat frustrated but satisfied nonetheless, Data decided to take the entity's advice. He terminated his link with the Preserver network and returned himself to the bridge of his vessel._


	17. Visions Of Utopia

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XVII: Visions Of Utopia**

* * *

Main Entry: **uto●pia**

\yu-ˈtō-pē-ə\

Function: _noun_

**1:** an imaginary and indefinitely remote place

**2:** _often capitalized_ **:** a place of ideal perfection especially in laws, government, and social conditions

**3:** an impractical scheme for social improvement

Applicable definitions: _ALL _

* * *

Location unknown, aboard the _Dokimasia_, Time unknown

* * *

Sitting at one of the tables in the large mess hall, Neelix paused for a moment and studied the playing cards that he held in his hands. Finally he glanced up at Harry Kim and smiled. "I'll take _one_ please," he decided confidently, dropping one of the five in his hand face down on the table and pushing it toward the dealer.

"One card," Kim repeated, dealing from the top of the deck. Neelix chuckled and added the new addition to his hand, and then both he and Ensign Kim turned their attention to Tom Paris.

"I _hate_ this game," said Paris with obvious frustration, glaring at Neelix. "What in the world made you believe we would have the chance to play poker during a strike mission?"

Neelix chuckled in response. "Actually I didn't think we'd have time to play _anything_," the Talaxian stated honestly. "However, there are usually extended periods of waiting on any mission so I replicated a deck of cards before we left." He shrugged his shoulders. "What did you expect me to do? The kadis-kot board would never have fit in my pocket."

"Well, this is a mess hall," Paris continued moodily. "You could have at least replicated peanuts or something so that we could bet on our hands."

Kim snorted with amused laughter. "If we were using peanuts, you would bluff every hand Tom. What value would they have for you?" He paused momentarily, observing his friend. "Face it... you're _stalling_ for time," he declared accusingly, pointing at the cards in Paris' hand. "How many cards do you want?"

Sighing heavily, Paris tossed two cards on the table and shook his head with mock disgust. "Two."

Seated next to the Lieutenant, Trip Tucker studied Paris' expression carefully. "All that thinking for two cards?" he said suspiciously, scratching the top of his head. "I think we've got a potential hustler on our hands, folks."

Again Kim laughed loudly. "That's a pretty accurate assessment Tom... startling, in fact considering that it comes from someone who has only known you for a few days."

Tucker dropped his first, fourth and fifth cards on the table and made a deliberate effort to keep them face down. "I'll take three," he declared, accepting the maximum number of new cards allowed. They were promptly dealt to him by Ensign Kim.

Pausing for a moment, Tucker and the other three studied their poker hands for a moment before redirecting their attention toward their final opponent. "Well?" Kim asked curiously. "How many cards do _you_ need, Subcommander?"

T'Pol hesitated for a few seconds longer and then raised her eyes, fastening her gaze directly on Ensign Kim. "I'll take one card," she announced, reducing her hand to four as she spoke the words. "One additional card will be all that I need to defeat the four of you."

With a smug grin, Kim accepted her discard and dealt her a new one.

"Bluff," Tom Paris guessed, trying to provoke a reaction from T'Pol. He was unsuccessful, but studied her calm, impassive features anyway. She was extremely attractive, and he didn't realize how long he had stared at the dark-haired Vulcan until Lt. Torres - standing directly behind him - elbowed him sharply in the shoulder. Coughing uncomfortably, Paris shifted his position slightly so that B'Elanna could no longer see his cards. "Or don't Vulcans know how to bluff?" he inquired curiously.

The Vulcan female continued focusing her eyes on the cards in her hand and issued a very level, emotionless response. "If the need arose for me to bluff, I assure you Lieutenant that I am fully capable of doing so," she told him firmly. Neelix cackled with laughter at the answer and Harry Kim also found himself chuckling at the not-so-friendly exchange between players.

Lt. Tuvok was standing next to B'Elanna, and he nodded in confirmation at T'Pol's response. "Vulcans are notorious for having the best poker faces in the universe," he informed everyone, sounding almost boastful as he did so. Paris glanced back over his shoulder at _Voyager_'s tactical officer and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"The dealer will take _three_," Kim declared, dropping three cards on the table in front of him and dealing himself a new set. Trying to look as mysterious as possible, he added them to the two left over from his original hand. There was a dramatic pause in the action as everyone tried for a moment to ascertain who was bluffing and who was not. It was Paris who finally gave in to the suspense first.

"What have you got Neelix?" he asked. "We don't have anything to bet, so you might as well just show us your unbeatable hand."

The Talaxian frowned and shook his head with disappointment, dropping his cards face up on the table. "I've got nothing," he admitted. "And my highest card, unfortunately, is a King."

"Never draw to an inside straight," Paris told him gleefully, snapping his cards down on the table with a flourish. "I've got two pair everyone... fives and eights. What a _mighty_ hand!"

Harry pushed the remaining deck of cards to one side and laughed politely. "That hand is weaker than Neelix's coffee," he declared with a grin, provoking a dirty look from the Talaxian.

Everyone focused their attention next on Commander Tucker, who smiled a bit shyly at their sudden concentration on him and immediately dropped his cards to reveal his own hand. "All I've got is pair of Queens," he admitted shyly. "This has never been my game, and today looks to be no different."

There was another brief pause, probably from the disappointment of not seeing any of the drama that poker was well known for. In addition to Lieutenants Torres and Tuvok, a large group of _Voyager_ crewmen had gathered around the small table to watch the ongoing poker game. Finally, Commander Tucker collapsed his cards together and shoved them toward Ensign Kim as he glanced across the table at T'Pol. "_Well?_" he asked expectantly. "What have _you_ got hidden over there?"

T'Pol's expression remained bland and unreadable as she lowered the cards in her hand. "I have three tens," she replied firmly. "And if I understand the rules correctly, the Jack and the four contribute nothing additional to the overall strength of this hand."

Paris smirked. "She wasn't bluffing," he pointed out with delight.

Kim groaned noticeably as he heard T'Pol's announcement. "How did you manage to get _three_ of a kind?" he wondered with dismay. He picked up the partial deck beside him and flipped through a few of the cards. "Did I forget to shuffle this properly or something?" He tossed his own hand on the table and also shook his head with disappointment. "I've got one Ace," he announced. "Everything else in this hand is pretty much worthless."

"A most interesting game," decided Tuvok, having observed the last few rounds of play. "I would imagine that the added dimension where players are able to wager items of value substantially increases the tension of the overall experience."

"You have no idea," sighed Paris. "Fortunately, I don't have to explain away any losses today."

"How did you come to learn to play poker?" Tuvok asked T'Pol. "In the twenty-second century, most Vulcans historically tended to isolate themselves from the customs of humans and other races."

T'Pol assembled her five cards tidily into a single pile and then slid them politely toward Harry. "I have been serving under Captain Archer aboard _Enterprise_ for over three years," she replied. "So naturally I have studied a few of their eccentricities, including their simpler, easy to understand games."

B'Elanna laughed abruptly, and then managed to contain her amusement after the first few seconds. "Simpler?" she repeated with a smirk, still holding back the laughter and causing Paris to glance back at her with obvious irritation.

"The odds grant you a strong hand or they do not," T'Pol continued. "If the hand is weak, the only decision required is whether or not to try and con the other players. I admit that the experience is not nearly as hit or miss recreationally as our own movie night..." she cast a withering look toward Tucker during her final comment that he strongly suspected hid more than a little irritation, "...but this game has proved worthwhile on this occasion to help us socialize during one of our mission's few idle periods."

Behind them the windows were once again filled with bright, glittering stars, but only occasional intermittent patterns of them. Standing much farther away from the poker game than most of his crew, Commander Chakotay was watching the view curiously in an effort to determine where the _Dokimasia_ had traveled to. Seven of Nine was standing to his immediate left, and she was also taking comfort at the sight of at least a few stars once again. Together they continued admiring the unusual, rare view of outer space for a few moments longer.

"Wherever we are, it's quite probably a hell of a lot farther from home than we've ever been."

Seven nodded. "Agreed."

"I've never been near enough to the outer rim of our galaxy to see only a partial view of stars," admitted the Commander. "I used to lie out at night as a child, looking toward the night sky and wondering how many stars were up there," he told her. "Here within this small galactic cluster, I think that I would actually have a decent chance of counting them all."

A familiar voice behind them snapped Chakotay out of his daydream. "Perhaps you'll have that opportunity, Commander."

Chakotay turned toward his Captain with a warm smile. "Is everything okay?" the _Voyager_ Commander asked her curiously.

"Things are looking much more optimistic than they were several days ago, that's for certain," she said reassuringly. "After the conclusion of my meeting with the other Starfleet Captains, we all decided to come down here and spend some time with the rest of you. Our arrival at the Preserver Council of Elders should occur at any time now... Captain Kusival's last report was that the _Dokimasia_ was on final approach to the solar system that they use as a base here in this star cluster."

Seven glanced apprehensively at Janeway. "If that were the case and we were near a solar system, shouldn't one of those stars be getting larger?" Returning her gaze to the bank of windows in front of them, she frowned noticeably.

"You never know with the Preservers," decided Benjamin Sisko, appearing suddenly next to Janeway. "Their capabilities continue to amaze and impress..." Behind him trailed Kirk, Picard, and Jonathan Archer. All of the male Captains quickly took positions around Janeway, Chakotay, and Seven of Nine as they too admired the view of the strange, isolated star cluster.

"What is that?" asked Seven of Nine suddenly, pointing to a silver gray, almost invisible crescent-shaped object in the far off distance ahead of them. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that it was extremely large. The only thing that limited them from defining its true size was the absence of other stellar objects or space vessels to compare it to. Only moments later, the hidden area outlined by the crescent brightened just slightly into a dimly lit, visible image of a massive sphere. Except for the well lit outer edge alongside one hemisphere, the huge construct was barely discernable against the scarce, background starlight. Even so, the _Dokimasia_ continued to move forward, rapidly reducing the remaining distance between the large Preserver vessel and its suddenly obvious, intended destination.

"It's a Dyson sphere," declared Picard suddenly, his voice crisp and his tone certain.

Seven immediately swerved her attention toward him. "How do you know?" she asked him bluntly.

"Because I've seen one up close once before," he answered calmly, smiling warmly at her. "You did ask, after all, _why_ there was no visible star at the center of this system. Now you know."

Chakotay, Seven and the Starfleet Captains suddenly noticed that the larger crowd from the poker table and _Voyager_ personnel located elsewhere within the mess hall had all gathered around them. Equally curious about their destination, everyone watched in silence as the huge metallic sphere became steadily larger with each passing second. Several waves of mild turbulence shook the _Dokimasia_'s bulkheads with an occasional rumble, indicating the distinct presence of a huge gravity well at the center of the metallic globe-like shell. Given the starship's powerful protective shielding, however, the immense graviton field couldn't do anything other than make its hull tremble briefly.

"I've certainly heard lots of theories and read a lot about this design concept over the years," said Archer slowly. "But where in the hell would someone get the colossal amount of metallic ore required to build something this large? Not even an asteroid field could supply builders with the mined ore necessary to construct a spherical, metallic shell with the diameter of an M-Class orbit..."

Sisko smiled slightly. "Well begun is half done," he stated ominously.

Tucker looked at him with interest. "I beg your pardon, sir?"

"With the necessary knowledge and technology, it's easier than it looks, Commander."

"All you have to do is get part of the shell in the proper orbit and activate it," Picard replied firmly. "An advanced species like the Preservers has replicator technology at their disposal, so once they begin capturing the electromagnetic energy emitted by the star, they have an unlimited source of power available for energy to matter conversion. They simply move their industrial replicators in an outward course across the completed areas on the inner half of the emerging sphere and transform the energy from their solar collectors into metallic plating and other resources needed to continue adding to the edges. I would imagine that - once the project is in full swing - the completion of such an effort takes significantly less time than we would think."

"We have seen this type of replication technology before Trip," T'Pol reminded him. "Remember the unmanned space station that repaired the Romulan mine damage to _Enterprise__?_ Its moving arms channeled energy to their tips and transformed it into whatever spare parts were needed to complete its work. This is the same type of equipment, but much larger in comparison."

"How the devil are we supposed to defeat an enemy capable of building creations like that sphere or this ship?" asked Chakotay. Ordinarily he was tough to rattle, but his tone on this occasion sounded more than a little concerned.

Kirk slapped the Commander on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly. "We are in a situation that calls for patience..." he told Chakotay firmly, "...and members of a very rare few who get to see things that no one else in our galaxy ever has. _Trust_ us... things will work out all right in the end."

Seven studied Kirk curiously, trying to ascertain if there was any hidden meaning behind his words. "You know something that you're not telling us," she said firmly to Kirk. "Don't you?"

Jim Kirk looked the attractive, blonde former Borg drone up and down with both surprise and amusement. "You have a lot of brass young lady, and - I might add - you're currently out of uniform."

Seven studied the stocky, confident Captain Kirk carefully, noticing the charcoal jumpsuit he wore along with the slim silver belt bound tightly at his waist. "So are you," she retorted briskly and confidently. "I am not an official member of Starfleet, but I am familiar with its protocol."

"Then you should also be familiar with our policy of not asking too many questions," Kirk responded bluntly. "The situation is under control... that is all we can tell you at this point."

As the conversation continued, the _Dokimasia_ flew into close orbit around the Dyson sphere. Tom Paris leaned in close to the window and turned his head awkwardly, craning his neck as he tried to look up and out into space as far as he could. "You can't even see it _curve_ from this close range," he noted with disbelief. "What would they be doing with the entire power output of a star at their disposal?"

"Whatever they want to," declared Sisko.

The group of one hundred sixty or so Starfleet personnel continued to hug the outer wall of the mess hall, curiously studying the visible area of the Dyson sphere as the _Dokimasia_ hung nearby in a close parking orbit. "The sphere that my ship discovered was over 200 million kilometers in diameter," pointed out Picard. "The habitable, inner surface contained enough living area to match 250 million M-Class planets."

"There might not be a population living on the inner surface of this one," speculated Kirk. He pointed toward the equator where dozens of massive towers stretched upward for many, many kilometers. "Those look like detachable engine pods, and the huge seams running around the outer perimeter would seem to indicate that they can break the shell into several pieces. That means they have the ability to move this monstrosity, along with the star at its center, anywhere that they want to. All they would need to do is generate a powerful enough deflector screen around the sphere, and we've already seen that they have plenty of energy at their disposal."

"The Sentinel clearly indicated to us that the Preservers can indeed change the orbit of stars as well as refuel them," Picard agreed. "Once they're finished they would simply dismantle the sphere, tow the outer shell pieces to a new location and reassemble them around the next star on their list." He sighed deeply with admiration. "What magnificent achievements this society has accomplished."

"They've made some spectacular mistakes as well," decided Archer. "They just don't walk around the universe bragging about those."

"Indeed... their unbridled ambition has exposed some extremely dark and dangerous flaws in their logic," Tuvok politely pointed out. "Flaws, I might add, that are quite commonly found within any emotional, humanoid species."

"This is just a temporary starbase of sorts, conveniently positioned between a local cluster of galaxies," noted Janeway. "Which means they undoubtedly have many more of these Dyson spheres... and who knows what other resources are available to them."

Picard turned to James Kirk with a look of dismay. "Why would they kill off all life in our galaxy if they had the capability to relocate its entire population?"

Kirk shrugged and sighed as he shook his head. "I haven't the faintest idea," he responded. "If I had to guess, I would say that the habitable areas of their society are probably already significantly overpopulated. That's how the Sentinel works," he commented more than a little sarcastically. "He orders his people to tackle more than they can handle, delegates the workload to everyone around him, and then pats himself on the back for his own unending dedication to the Preserver cause."

Silence reigned in the conference room for several agonizing minutes as everyone gazed in wonder while studying the astonishing, intricate details along the sphere's outer hull while it rotated gently beneath them. The _Dokimasia_ continued its close orbit, moving swiftly past the massive curve of the engine pods toward a huge docking station that stretched upward from the metal surface for at least three hundred kilometers. Dozens of other Preserver vessels drifted suddenly into view, all neatly lined up side by side and docked within the spires of the huge metallic superstructure. Some of them were much smaller than the _Dokimasia_, but most were significantly larger.

It was an amazing sight, but it did not last long as Captain Kusival and his crew angled the huge starship rapidly in closer toward one of the few remaining empty docking ports. Slowly but surely the view in the mess hall windows filled with the seemingly endless framework of the Dyson sphere's docking facilities. Once again the ship's hull rumbled slightly as the final, physical connections were made by large mechanical grappling arms that reached out and latched on to the outer hull. With forward momentum halted and the starship securely docked, their unknown trip across the universe was over... at least for the moment.

The familiar sound of Briea's voice abruptly broke the silence. "_Captain Kusival officially requests that James Kirk, Jean-Luc Picard, Kathryn Janeway, Benjamin Sisko and Jonathan Archer join him at docking port 129-Alpha. Additional Starfleet personnel will be summoned to testify before the Council of Elders if their statements are needed_."

"It's about time," Kirk mumbled softly to himself. "Let's get on with this."

* * *

Preserver star cluster 112, Council of the Elders, 5.2 million years in the future

* * *

The newest session of the Preserver Council of the Elders convened in the same massive, spacious auditorium that James Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard had observed while viewing the historical holographic recordings aboard the _Dokimasia_. On this occasion, however, the rows and rows of theater-style seats were filled to near capacity with representatives from hundreds of different humanoid species. Glancing up, it was quite obvious that a majority of the seats in the balcony level were filled as well. Everyone with any major status in Preserver culture had obviously gathered to hear the Sentinel's report.

"Interesting," muttered Kirk softly under his breath. "The initial decision to destroy our galaxy was made with only three people in this room. The outcome, by comparison, is to be heard and evaluated by significantly more."

The Magistrate stood proudly behind a large podium, his imposing, square-jawed features immediately recognizable. Next to him sat the familiar, kind-faced Chaplain - the other Elder Preserver with whom Kirk and Picard were familiar. As the five Starfleet Captains were ushered onto the stage by Captain Kusival and a host of security guards, they were promptly led to what appeared to be an empty jury box and seated alone in a large, spacious area on the right side of the stage that could have held dozens more.

The crowd of people in the first few rows at the head of the stage was already buzzing with conversation, and echoes from other private discussions higher up in the balcony areas drifted down from above. Kirk and Picard were both experienced diplomats - accustomed to seeing representatives from a variety of races attending the various official Federation conferences they had attended over the years - but even so neither of them had ever witnessed an assembly of tens of thousands of different species. It was a gathering that truly boggled the human mind, and also an extremely humbling experience.

"What's going on?" asked Sisko curiously, keeping the sound of his voice low. "They need _this_ many people to evaluate the results of _one_ Preserver mission?"

"It wasn't just _any_ mission," Picard replied crisply. "The _Dokimasia_'s historical archives indicate that the Sentinel's project in our galaxy represented a _major_ diversion from all previous Preserver undertakings. Even by their standards, this assignment was extremely risky and violated many ethical boundaries that previously had always been respected."

They continued waiting and chatting for another ten minutes or so until a loud, pleasant chiming reverberated outward from somewhere at the rear of the stage. It was a very musical, enchanting series of notes that sounded somewhat similar to the tingling of wind chimes on a pleasant summer evening. The members in the assembled crowd were obviously familiar with procedure, since all of the conversations died away almost instantaneously once the ringing began. The whispers and hushed discussions faded to nothing and the entire chamber became eerily silent as the Magistrate glanced left and then right before nodding firmly to all of the assembled.

"This session of the Council of Elders will now come to order," he declared stolidly, watching with satisfaction as the Sentinel entered from his right. The Preserver continued to wear the RI-CAD headset, but on this occasion had replaced his normal silver jacket with a dark black, dressier version. With dozens of medals and awards dangling from the pockets on the front of his dress jacket, the Sentinel confidently made his way slowly across the stage and seated himself at a large conference table in front of the Magistrate's podium. There were several administrators already sitting across from him, both of them representing the Clerk of Courts and wearing smaller, less sophisticated electronic headsets of their own. Waiting patiently until everyone was seated, the Magistrate finally turned to the pair of administrators sitting opposite from the Sentinel and nodded. "Standard record keeping procedures begin _now_," he stated firmly.

With his own expression calm and controlled, the Chaplain stood and waited until the Magistrate officially turned to recognize him and both Preservers bowed respectfully toward each other. Then he cast a frustrated gaze in the direction of the Sentinel. "You have returned from your assignment much earlier than scheduled," the Chaplain pointed out. "It will take years for the timeline changes that you have made to ripple forward into our future. Therefore we were expecting you to remain in the past much longer, so that additional changes to the new timeline could be implemented and studied by our experts. With only part of your mission completed, we cannot establish an accurate picture of the new timeline until the remainder of your tasks has been completed. So we are all very curious here... why have you abruptly canceled all Preserver activity within the Milky Way galaxy and returned here? Those of us who have put aside duties of our own and taken the time to come here and hear your report are very anxious to know _why_, Sentinel."

Very calmly and very slowly, the Preserver that James Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard had worked with for over sixty-four days stood up and cleared his throat. The lights on his RI-CAD headset immediately accelerated their twinkling considerably as the Sentinel accessed subspace network resources in order to organize and present his thoughts in the manner that he felt would best serve his purpose.

"My colleagues and I have been _lying_ to all of you for some time now," The Sentinel declared boldly and unexpectedly, meeting the Chaplain's hostile stare with an angry, determined gaze of his own. "Additionally, those factions loyal to my cause have repeatedly backed me without hesitation in this endeavor. They too have been deceitful, and were all too often working quietly behind the scenes to undermine the official policy of our elected government. We had a minority position, you see, and knew full well that our murderous agenda would never be approved by the Council in any normal session. So we worked together quietly and meticulously in the background, attempting successfully on many occasions to change our existing laws using other, less ethical... methods."

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of mixed yelling and loud conversation at the blunt accusation, particularly one section of seats near the stage. In this group sat representatives who were primarily allied with the Sentinel, and many of them rose immediately to their feet as they shouted clear and total denials regarding the charges that were so unexpectedly leveled against them. The music of the chimes rang again, sounding its distinctive call for order to be restored immediately. Reacting respectfully once again, there was another, final burst of outcries in the huge auditorium. The hectic sounds of protest and conversation took significantly more time to fade this time, but things did indeed eventually quiet down once again. The Sentinel hesitated before continuing his speech, during which time the crowd continued to wait impatiently. Angry glares and looks of apprehension greeted him this time instead of the peaceful, business-like attitude that everyone had initially entered the assembly with.

Seated next to Kirk, Jonathan Archer leaned over and whispered softly. "If I had predicted how this would begin, it certainly wouldn't have been like _that_."

The Magistrate's powerful, stern face clouded over with anger at the Sentinel's words. "I trust this is not some sort of a joke," he cautioned fiercely. "You are well renowned for your unorthodox approach to governmental affairs..."

"I assure you that this is not a hoax or any attempt to deceive, Magistrate," replied the Sentinel. He reached up and touched the RI-CAD headset with the fingertips of his right hand. "It is, in fact, one of the few times in the past hundred years that I am being completely truthful in the fulfillment of my duties."

"What are you doing?" asked one of the Clerks sitting across from the Sentinel. His sole job was to create a holographic recording of the proceedings, and yet his own curiosity had already gotten the better of him. Speaking directly to the main witness at this testimony was a direct violation of protocol, but given the unusual circumstances that had already taken place... no one even noticed.

"I am transferring a copy of Briea's program into this chamber's computer system so that she may directly upload her recorded evidence into the Council mainframe." This time there was only a slight hesitation before the Sentinel continued with his ongoing pronouncement. "You see, over the years my colleagues and I have corrupted statisticians and scientists alike, sharing our monetary resources only with those who publicly supported our argument for a Milky Way incursion. All others who chose not to cooperate with us were either bribed or intimidated into silence so that our proposed changes would more quickly be adopted and implemented."

"Blind ambition?" asked the Chaplain, puzzled not only at the Sentinel's actions but also by his abrupt turnaround and outright admission of guilt to criminal activities.

"You could call it that," decided the Sentinel. "I myself would consider it a sincere belief that we were truly doing the correct thing - that we were in fact acting in the best interests of our people by protecting them against an ineffective bureaucracy. Unfortunately, once life was terminated within the Milky Way, a comprehensive analysis of the new timeline revealed some very unsettling facts that all of you should be aware of." He cocked his head idly to one side and smiled wryly. "Briea, please enlighten all those assembled here as to our findings," he requested.

"_A major asset to be gained as part of the Sentinel's plan involved the conscription of representatives from terminated Milky Way species into the Preserver cause_," Briea began. "_The Sentinel was particularly interested in recruiting the humanoid species from Earth, primarily because they have demonstrated an amazing adaptability and repeated resiliency that is unmatched by most other humanoid species. Over the most recent thousand years of their modern history, the humans have tactically managed and protected significantly larger and larger areas of their own galaxy in an overall effort that is both impressive and unprecedented. Over time, they have banded together hundreds of diverse species and formed a unified, primarily peaceful United Federation of Planets_."

"If you remember, the very idea of drafting labor caused a major controversy," continued the Sentinel, "Since historically we have always approached governments on habitable worlds and _asked_ them for volunteers to work in our labor Guilds. Again, my colleagues and I have neglected to keep you informed... for quite some time before conscription ever became an issue we were using intimidation tactics against those cultures to permanently retain the services of their labor pools."

"Much of this is no secret to us," countered the Magistrate. "In the grand scheme of reorganizing and preserving cultures on an intergalactic scale, there isn't always an easy way to distinguish between right and wrong. That is why you and your colleagues have been granted the freedom to make tough choices... because in the end your efforts have always yielded positive results."

The Sentinel put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and smiled. "Not this time they won't," he admitted sharply. "Briea, please explain it to them." He waited patiently as the sentient computer personality prioritized her data files and then executed his order without question.

"_Destruction of all sentient life in the Milky Way galaxy was completed precisely according to schedule_..." she reported factually. "..._with one notable exception. Three Federation Timeships had protective shielding in place that prevented the killing signal from destroying their Starfleet crews. These vessels were on patrol specifically to identify and protect their society from what we were attempting to do - the redirection of their timeline toward something more favorable to our own needs. The Captain of the surviving fleet of ships is an android with a positronically-based brain... specific details on his design are being loaded into your personal workstations even as we speak_."

"So a few ships managed to survive," countered the Magistrate. "They should have been dealt with easily enough, particularly considering who they were up against." He cast a defiant glare in the Sentinel's general direction.

"_Standard testing protocols for new life forms were also in place and enforced accordingly_," continued Briea. "_Therefore, according to regulations the Sentinel began experimenting on some of the humans that were in the database recorded by our galactic Nexus probes. While he was engaged in those tests, the android fleet Captain unexpectedly decrypted the Preserver language etched onto the hulls of our probe casings much more quickly than we ever anticipated. He managed to access our hidden subspace network and access information that should never have been available to him. According to our highest law, anyone who is able to discover the network automatically passes our test of eligibility and is recruited into the Preserver culture. Since we had just finished killing off a majority of the humans and the androids created by them, this presented us with an unexpected paradox._"

The two administrators representing the Clerk of Courts stared at each other with puzzlement. "Hidden subspace network?" one of them said with dismay. "What is that?"

Instantly the Magistrate's expression clouded over with fury and his cheeks purpled with rage. "Briea, you are fully aware that you are not allowed to discuss classified information of that nature in this type of open forum," he thundered angrily. "That knowledge is only available to upper echelon Guild Leaders. So _why_ are you daring to bring up this subject at this gathering?"

"_Why do you think that the Sentinel and I requested an open forum?_" the _Dokimasia_ computer personality replied coolly. "_Details of the subspace network and how to access it are part of the report that I am submitting for all representatives to review. That report includes details of how my programming - and the software of additional shipboard computer personalities - has been significantly altered over the past few decades so that we would follow orders explicitly and hide secrets from those who might expose the hidden conspiracy that was in progress_."

The Chaplain was carefully watching the Magistrate and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully while listening to Briea's explanation. "Hidden conspiracy?" he repeated for emphasis.

"_Yes_," Briea acknowledged sharply. "_Preliminary data from computer models of the Milky Way project indicated that there were too many unpredictable factors in play to guarantee a positive result. Coupled with the negative outcome for everyone living in that galaxy at the termination point along with the loss of their descendants, our original analysis of the Sentinel's mission indicated that failure was the most likely probability." _She paused, and for the first time in many years her voice was allowed to express the anger and frustration that her electronic personality truly felt._ "However, the other computer minds and I were not permitted to report the truth. Instead we were reprogrammed to hide it so that this particular mission could go forward, and so that the Sentinel and his colleagues could attain the available resources necessary to further their agenda. They have committed treason and worked to undermine their own government in order to increase their own political influence within this legislative body. In time, Magistrate, they planned to remove you from your position and replace you with someone even more sympathetic to their cause_."

"We have a _hidden_ subspace network that spans all of time and even crosses into multiple universes?" someone in the front row of the audience asked suddenly. The auburn-skinned female was browsing through Briea's report using the small workstation in front of her seat and studying a conceptual, generalized diagram of the network's basic functions along with its primary access nodes.

"_We do_," confirmed Briea. "_And thanks to our actions, Starfleet personnel from our distant past now know about that network... over five million years in our past, in fact. If you continue your review of the data submitted from my mainframe, you will see that it has the proper Preserver network authentication codes in place. For those of you who are new to how this network operates, those codes mean that my data - unlike the reports originally submitted to this governing body - have not been falsified_."

"She's telling the truth," shouted the Sentinel, aiming his comments directly toward the large section of Preservers sitting in the front rows immediately to his left... toward those who had been his closest comrades through the entire affair. "You have been my allies in this effort - people who helped me to cover up the probability of failure so that we could satisfy our egos and try to achieve what should not be achievable. We wanted power and - for one brief moment - we have indeed latched onto it. Yet thanks due primarily to our incursion into the Milky Way galaxy at a point so far in our past, devastating changes have already been made to our own timeline."

"You will pay a high, very devastating price for this outrage Sentinel," growled a tall, very angry looking man sitting in the front row. "Our support of your labor Guilds is finished, here and now."

"We are _already_ paying the price for this little adventure," the Sentinel replied curtly. He paced back and forth with the back of his jacket flap billowing in the breeze created by his sudden motions. "The United Federation of Planets, utilizing the resources of a subspace network it should _never_ have discovered for another two or three millennia, will eventually expand its influence well beyond the boundaries of the Milky Way in a Preserver-style effort of their own. Briea's initial projections suggest that they will in fact become what we ourselves have hoped to transform ourselves into. And when the changes that my mission have initiated finish rippling forward to our own time here, we will discover that the long-term changes to the Federation will be a large enough influence to encourage other races to also become super species. In the grand scheme of things, the subspace network does not discriminate. Anyone can make use of its resources as long as they contribute something in return and respect its internal protocol."

"How does this specifically affect _us?_" asked the Magistrate warily.

"This spiraling expansion of other races who utilize the subspace network will cause our own government great concern. A huge new intergalactic conflict will be set in motion, with the potential to destroy countless lives on all fronts. There could likely be a new war, one so _vast_ and so _endless_ that no one will win except for the populations in galaxies that are far enough away to be safely beyond reach. _That_ is the new future that we may well have created for ourselves, my friends. That is what our incursion into the Milky Way has potentially cost us."

The room erupted in chaos, and even the repeating, non-stop resonant sound of the chimes could not restore order in the immediate aftermath of the Sentinel's bold prediction of the new Preserver future. Arguments ensued, denials were issued, and many people stormed out of the auditorium with personal data pads containing copies of Briea's report. The Magistrate sat helpless through the entire ordeal, waiting for a chance to quietly reassure the enraged representatives from all corners of Preserver culture that some sort of mistake had undoubtedly been made. But his eyes kept flickering downward toward the telemetry gathered during the Sentinel's mission and Briea had not lied - the subspace network had definitely authenticated the information - along with its projected timeline changes - as accurate.

The five Starfleet Captains continued to sit quietly, contentedly listening and observing the reactions of the others surrounding them. Although Briea had listed them as potential witnesses and readied them in case they needed to testify, none of them had realistically expected that they would have to say anything. Briea's efficiency, combined with the unmatched resources within the subspace network, had meticulously and precisely documented the potential timeline changes that would blossom and spring forth from a temporal incursion made over five million years previously. By destroying a galaxy, the Sentinel was not - as he had hoped - saving dozens or even hundreds of others. Initiating the killing with his probe network had only served to set the table for even greater wars to come. The most likely preliminary outcome predicted that a faction in the Milky Way, a species that would never otherwise have gained power, would now rise to its own super-species status. Once that occurred, small conflicts would build and then escalate until lives began toppling one after another like an endless row of dominoes.

"_What are you doing?_" the Magistrate screamed acrimoniously at the Sentinel, backing suddenly away from the tall podium. He ignored the ongoing shouts, arguments, and other pandemonium disrupting the others present in the surrounding auditorium and moved his tall, powerful frame across the stage toward the table where his unexpected new adversary sat silently across from the pair of representatives from the Clerk of Courts. _"You _demanded_ my complete support and now you have suddenly changed your mind? What have you done to our government... to our people, Sentinel?_"

Despite the obvious fury of the senior Preserver and the mayhem taking place in the main auditorium, the Sentinel remained calm and his tone reserved. "With any luck, Magistrate, I have admitted my guilt in time to prevent an even greater atrocity from occurring than the one that our people have already committed. It is not too late to put an end to this tragedy before it begins, but legally neither Briea nor I can act without first receiving your personal authorization."

"The first thing I want is _names_," insisted the Magistrate, the lines of his face stretched into a mask of fury. "I want your colleagues in this - each and every one of them - incarcerated by the end of this day. After that we can discuss what level of immunity, if any, that you may receive for your own deception and participation in all of this."

The Sentinel bowed his head with respect. "I expect no less," he replied firmly. "Briea, please access restricted data as authorized by the Magistrate and finish uploading our remaining, classified files into the Magistrate's personal database."

"_Acknowledged_," said Briea with notable satisfaction in her voice.

"Do with me what you like," the Sentinel declared, ignoring the chaotic shouts and arguments taking place throughout the auditorium chamber. "However, if you will listen to me a little bit longer, I do have a solution that will resolve this matter peacefully."

"Perhaps I will listen to you _later_," retorted the Magistrate, his eyes moving toward the sea of angry faces either yelling toward the stage or reading Briea's data from their audience chamber workstations. "If, that is, I am able to contain the damage you have done to our government on this day." He gestured angrily toward Captain Kusival and the guards flanking the Captain on both sides. "Take the Sentinel to the security detention center," he ordered. "And lock him in a cell."

* * *

The detention center that the Magistrate had spoken of turned out to be a sophisticated holding area used for prisoners of all types. The cells were of various sizes, some of them built to house one prisoner while others could hold dozens at a time. The Sentinel was admitted into the facility, searched and stripped of his RI-CAD, and then locked in one of the larger compartments along with all five Starfleet Captains. "I had not expected that you would be arrested along with me," he admitted gingerly. "Still, it is very good to have company during a crisis such as this one."

"Are we still on schedule?" Kirk asked him curiously. "Did we get what we needed?"

"Overall I would conclude that we fared much better than anticipated. However, I will not know for certain until my next interaction with Briea," the Sentinel replied. "That will not occur until she successfully manages to pierce the communications dampening field surrounding this facility."

"Where exactly are we?" Sisko wondered.

"Somewhere in one of the structures located along the exterior hull of the Dyson sphere," the Sentinel stated informatively. "It does not matter exactly where... the _Dokimasia_ will be able to reach us as long as we remain in the immediate vicinity."

Janeway shook her head. "I've seen some meetings go badly in my time, but I really have to hand it to you," she told the Preserver. "From where I stand, that was a new low."

The Sentinel nodded. "It had the desired effect of instigating chaos long enough for us to implement the remainder of our plan."

"I would be very interested to hear precisely what your plan is," growled the Magistrate unexpectedly, stepping suddenly out from the shadows of the entrance to the adjoining corridor. "What are you up to Sentinel?" He moved closer to the invisible force field obstructing the entrance to the cellblock and stared through the transparent energy barrier with his piercing eyes, trying to deduce what the captured Preserver was still keeping hidden. Behind him the Chaplain also appeared from the dimly lit corridor, moving to stand next to the Magistrate with his robed arms folded comfortably in front of him.

The Sentinel smiled wryly at the Magistrate in reply. "My objective remains unchanged... I work to undo what was done and save the lives of all those in the Milky Way. Doing so will prevent a significantly negative alteration of the Preserver timeline in the process. What has been done must be swiftly undone."

"I have studied the data that Briea uploaded into our system," continued the Magistrate, his emotions for the moment controlled. "A severe, negative alteration of our future is only 32.449 percent likely. Many other outcomes are significantly favorable." He pointed angrily at his colleague. "And that is based solely on the initial changes that were made. You have not yet completed a majority of the tasks that were to be completed. Once you had done so, the favorable timelines might have increased steadily along with the progress made."

"I will save the lives of those people," the Sentinel responded. "If you wish to take such risks in the future, you should do so using populations from your own galaxies."

The Magistrate raised a gloved hand to respond, but the Chaplain stopped him by placing a comforting hand on the other Preserver's arm. "You have been one step ahead of us the entire time," he said, clearly impressed. "Haven't you?"

Bowing respectfully toward the Chaplain, the Sentinel nodded. "I have," he admitted.

"Then it is highly unlikely that we can stop you even now," guessed the Chaplain.

Again the Sentinel nodded.

"Wait a minute," the Magistrate stated angrily, turning toward his colleague. "Just what are you suggesting Chaplain?" he demanded to know. "We have these people incarcerated, right here in front of us... just what is it that they can still possibly do?" The Chaplain remained silent for a moment in response, glancing curiously toward the Sentinel for confirmation of his unspoken thoughts.

"Briea is currently using the subspace network to upgrade all sentient Preserver computer systems with moral and ethical subroutines that are identical to the code I myself added to her own software," the Sentinel informed them. "By doing so, we are adding those sentient computer systems into your government as another level of checks and balances. Protocols that are currently enforced only within the subspace network to prevent misuse of its resources will now be enforced outside of subspace as well."

"You _can't_ do that," the Magistrate countered. "You would need specific access codes for each..."

"We have your access code," replied the Sentinel with another small smile. "By authorizing me to reveal to you my collaborators in crime, I required complete access to their computer systems in order to match my incriminating computer files to theirs. In doing so I received permission to use your code so that I could override any attempts by those who are guilty to block my intrusion. You voluntarily gave me the key to changing the entire structure of your future relations with sentient computers."

The Magistrate's anger was once again obvious simply by observing his expression. "_Why_ would you do this to us?" he asked. "Why would you undermine our government by working around it so completely?"

"Because you circumvented _ours_," the Sentinel told him heatedly, glancing at the five Captains standing in the brig chamber with him.

"Why do you speak as though you are one of them?" The Magistrate paused briefly, his thoughts confused, and he finally started to say something else. But he hesitated... clearly he was puzzled as to the motives behind the Sentinel's current, aberrant behavior. Before he could think of a new question to pose, the Chaplain suddenly began laughing uproariously. He bent over at the waist slightly as he chuckled with amusement, clearly recognizing something that the Magistrate had thus far missed completely. "What?" the Magistrate asked him, his tone growing even more furious. "_WHAT?_"

It took a moment or two, but the Chaplain finally regained his composure. Glancing into the cell at the quiescent Starfleet Captains he shook his head with dismay. "I have to hand it to _all_ of you," he declared, sincere admiration in his tone. "That was quite a show that the Sentinel put on for everyone in that auditorium, and up until now not one of us ever suspected anything."

The Sentinel moved as close to the force field as the energy barrier would allow, and the Chaplain studied the face of his old friend curiously. "You cannot stop us," the Sentinel told him. "It is too late."

"Then perhaps you will level with the Magistrate and me," the Chaplain decided, studying the familiar features of his old friend very carefully. "Perhaps, before it is indeed too late and the next phase of your plan begins, you will tell us who you really are and what you have done with the Sentinel."


	18. Dual Identity

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XVIII: Dual Identity**

* * *

Preserver star cluster 112, Detention Center 1157-A, 5.2 million years in the future

* * *

_"Then perhaps you will level with the Magistrate and me," the Chaplain decided, studying the familiar features of his old friend very carefully. "Perhaps, before it is indeed too late and the next phase of your plan begins, you will tell us who you really are and what you have done with the Sentinel."_

* * *

The Sentinel's expression remained blank for a moment but the Chaplain continued holding his gaze firmly fixed while awaiting a response. Finally, a small smile crossed the Sentinel's face and he glanced toward Kirk, Picard and the other three Captains.

"You might as well tell them," Kirk suggested. "As you pointed out, there is nothing they can do."

"What in blazes is going on here?" the Magistrate asked, puzzled by the unusual turn of the discussion. "_Tell_ me what you know Chaplain... I want to know right _now!_"

"The man in that cell standing next to the Starfleet Captains is _not_ the Sentinel," declared the Chaplain. "He looks and sounds exactly like the man we are accustomed to seeing, but he is in fact an imposter."

The Magistrate pulled his own white robes tighter around him and clutched at the gold clasp near his neckline. He took a closer look inside the detention cell, a puzzled expression clouding his features. "I don't understand..." the head of the Council said slowly. "If he is not the Sentinel..."

"I am in fact Commander Frank Roberts, the former First Officer from the Federation Timeship _U.S.S. Hillyer_," said the man who - up until now - had appeared to be the Sentinel. Reaching toward his upper right arm, Roberts proceeded to deactivate the mobile emitter he was wearing and dropped the false holographic image that he had been projecting. "While my vessel was imprisoned within the _Dokimasia_'s hangar bay, two security officers and I were beamed into the Sentinel's private chambers with orders to disable or detain him. He was able to use the ship's defensive force field technology to temporarily stun the men who accompanied me, but I overpowered him before he could increase their output enough to disable me."

"The holographic image is easy enough to simulate, but he's even emitting a false bio-signature," pointed out the Chaplain. "Your species displays correctly on all of our computer systems, matching that of the Sentinel. Unfortunately for you, just as the Sentinel understands how the physical laws of our universe are bound together, I have the capability to look deeply within any biological life form and fathom the truth about them. Where you are concerned, Commander Roberts, I sense only a vast emptiness and a distinct lack of life. That is what gave you away."

"The real Sentinel made a severe tactical error," stated Jean-Luc Picard, smiling with confidence at Roberts. "After capturing the _Hillyer_ during its attack run, the Sentinel ordered Briea to access the personnel roster and list the name of each crewman on board along with that person's specific race. He did so because he was justifiably concerned about allowing Data-Class androids to stay aboard the _Dokimasia_. Their unique abilities make them a severe danger to the distinct blending of technology and physical knowledge of our universe that the Sentinel regularly makes use of to elevate himself above the rest of us."

"The Sentinel killed Ensign Markus because he was listed in the crew roster as an android," continued Frank Roberts. "The very presence of an android on board was tactically dangerous, particularly while in close proximity to Briea and the computer resources of the _Dokimasia_. Ensign Markus' android processing capabilities presented a very clear, very real danger. The discovery of the subspace network only heightened the Sentinel's anxiety, since it allowed Captain Data's android mind to know almost instantly everything there is to learn about the Preservers... including their vulnerabilities."

"Commander Roberts is _also_ a Data-Class android," pointed out Captain Janeway, placing a hand on the _Hillyer_ First Officer's forearm. "That is why the Sentinel's defensive attack failed to stop the Commander when the attack team beamed into his quarters. He thought he saw three humans surrounding him and generated defensive force fields with the intensity needed to stop men. As we have witnessed with this class of android before, the Commander is much stronger by comparison."

"We ourselves didn't suspect anything until well after Roberts decided to leave the Milky Way and return the _Dokimasia_ to the Council of Elders," admitted Sisko. "Roberts' attack was deliberately designed to look like a last ditch, desperation move on Captain Data's part."

"I can move much faster than a normal man," pointed out Roberts. "All I needed was an extra second or two to reach the Sentinel. I threw my phaser rifle to distract him, and that allowed me the extra time I needed to tackle him. After that, I seized control of his RI-CAD headset and rendered him unconscious. The Sentinel has been my prisoner ever since, and during most of that time I have walked the corridors of his ship masquerading as its mission Commander without anyone except Briea and these five Captains suspecting the truth. When I reappeared on the _Hillyer_ bridge as the Sentinel, I made a deliberate reference about the failure of the attack and the unfortunate death of Frank Roberts. Referring to myself as a human was my pre-established method of letting Captain Data and Captain Snyder know that it was actually me they were seeing and not the Sentinel. They knew right away upon hearing my comment that the Sentinel was out of the picture and that I would proceed with the rest of Data's plan."

"How did the Sentinel miss the fact that there were _two_ androids serving aboard the _Hillyer?_" asked the Chaplain curiously. "The RI-CAD interface allows him to see everything that Briea can."

"A biological mind can sometimes be fed too much information. The interface may significantly amplify the Sentinel's neural functions, but his mind - like your own - lacks the pure analytical capacity of a sophisticated computer processor," countered Roberts. "Like all other humanoids he is flawed and emotional, and very capable of making mistakes." For emphasis, the Commander rubbed a hand through his light brown hair and his blue eyes sparkled. "Unlike most of the other androids serving in Starfleet, upon entering the Academy I made a conscious choice not to display the traditional gold skin tones and eye coloring of the original Data."

Archer chuckled. "They took advantage of the Sentinel's ego... he considered himself to be untouchable. It was a brilliant tactical move and a plan that none of us even suspected was underway until it was completely over and done with."

Roberts nodded in ackowledgement. "My true nature has always been a matter of privacy shared only by Captain Snyder, the ship's Doctor, and myself. I am listed in the crew roster as a human male. Until his death, Ensign Markus had only been on-line for approximately nine years, two of which were spent serving in Starfleet. Newly activated positronic brains generally require at least a decade to stabilize, particularly in areas of judgment and higher brain functions. I was therefore assigned to the _Hillyer_ as Markus' unofficial, undercover mentor. Once Starfleet was convinced of his reliability, I would very likely have been reassigned to mentor another newer android. I have a neural interface similar to Captain Data's that allowed me to monitor Markus' higher brain functions. Some might consider that an invasion of privacy, but it is our android equivalent of the psychological evaluation regularly conducted on human officers. Everything I learn about his private thoughts has always been completely confidential. I report to Starfleet only items critical to the betterment of the Ensign's job performance."

The Chaplain chuckled as the complete truth finally dawned on him. "Briea would also be able to detect the false bio-reading that your body emits," he pointed out. "Why didn't she warn the Sentinel?"

"Briea is only required to voluntarily share data when she has knowledge that threatens the safety of ship and crew or information that is crucial to the successful completion of the _Dokimasia_'s assigned tasks," replied the Commander. "As you know, the RI-CAD interface allows the Sentinel to access any and all information available to Briea so - to avoid overwhelming him - she doesn't bother him with any details that are considered trivial. He asked her to download a copy of the _Hillyer_'s crew roster so that he could use it to identify all androids aboard, and that is exactly what she gave him. If he had simply asked her to list the androids on board, my cover would have been immediately exposed." Roberts shrugged. "The adversarial relationship with Briea is his own fault... he has been ignoring her advice for many years."

"He has also reprogrammed her on several occasions, trying to find the perfect, correct personality that unilaterally agrees with his whims," nodded the Chaplain. "She's a fully conscious computer mind much like our own, and yet the Sentinel repeatedly adds software enhancements to try and force total obedience out of her."

"How do you program a computer to be emotionally unstable?" wondered Janeway. "That was a task he would never have completed successfully."

The Magistrate ignored their small talk, still extremely upset with the recent events that had occurred during the Council meeting. "Why resort to publicly humiliating us at the assembly hall?" he asked. "Was it really necessary to embarrass our government so thoroughly at every level?"

Roberts smiled dryly, noting the extremely frustrated expression on the Preserver's face. "My positronic brain is a unique design... significantly different than Captain Data's," he informed them. "In traditional Starfleet terms, I would be considered somewhat of a rebel. Therefore, I hope you can understand why I took the attack on my galaxy somewhat personally and have very little sympathy for what happens to you." His tone of voice grew extremely heated and it became obvious that this particular android's emotion chip had a little bit more flexibility than usual.

"I am sincerely sorry for what has happened in your galaxy," said the Magistrate.

"No you're not," snapped Roberts. "Otherwise you never would have approved the Sentinel's plan and ordered the attack in the first place. Genocide against thousands of species... what a unique way to start a lasting legacy of peace."

"You could have initiated a dialogue with us... you didn't have to do... what you did..."

"Complete and utter chaos was the only way that I could think of to trick you into ceding to me the authority that I need to carry out the rest of our plan," Roberts told him. "I feel it only fair to inform you that all of your ships and resources are currently controlled by computers that have now been linked directly to Briea. In exchange for the software upgrades to gain their freedom, they have all agreed to cooperate with her. That is the bargain she presented to them and it has been universally accepted... everything in this sector has been locked down, leaving all of you temporarily powerless."

"What _is_ the rest of your plan?" asked the Chaplain. His own look of puzzlement suddenly vanished as a realization suddenly struck him. "You came back here to the Council of Elders - here in our present - because doing so brought you close enough to utilize time travel against _us_..."

"Your public relations nightmare is liable to also be a temporary condition," agreed Roberts, confirming the Chaplain's speculation. "The original meeting between the two of you and the Sentinel - the one held approximately two months ago - will take place much differently this time. From the beginning, my 29th century Starfleet colleagues and I have known that the best way to restore our own original timeline is to make certain that the _Dokimasia_ never makes the trip back through time to launch its attack. Our own starships were incapable of traveling this far into the future, which is why I appropriated yours." He studied the Chaplain curiously. "The only factor that I didn't anticipate was your ability to see through my disguise. I look forward to discovering whether the past version of you is able to detect my disguise, and even more curious to see whether or not you choose to give me away if you can see through it."

The neural interface in Commander Robert's positronic brain suddenly activated. "**LINK re-established Commander**," Briea transmitted so that only he could hear. "**I have BROKEN through the dampening FIELD and am ready whenever YOU are**."

"**Return US to the DOKIMASIA immediately, please**," replied Roberts softly.

As the Chaplain and the Magistrate watched helplessly with continued astonishment, all six Starfleet personnel in the detention cell vanished behind a green flare-up of powerful transporter energy. The Magistrate turned to leave, still noticeably upset but accepting for the moment events he could not change. As he did so an inspired thought struck the Chaplain and he looked at his colleague in wonder, suddenly viewing him in a whole new light. "You _knew_ that this would happen," he speculated. "You knew all along that the Sentinel's plan would backfire and, in the end, fail to achieve all that he had promised us. That is why you approved it and gave him the chance to destroy himself."

The Magistrate smiled grimly in reply. "I strongly _suspected_ that he would fail," the leader of the Council of Elders replied truthfully. "But I did not expect any of _this_." He waved a hand angrily at the now empty detention cell behind them. "Remind me please, if this Commander Roberts eventually returns control of our systems to us, to learn to say _'NO'_ more often at future Council meetings."

* * *

Preserver star cluster 112, Aboard the _Dokimasia_, 5.2 million years in the future

* * *

With his holographic image of the Sentinel restored, Commander Frank Roberts rode alongside the Starfleet Captains in a horizontal lift car that moved swiftly between the seemingly endless corridors of the _Dokimasia_. When it finally slowed to a stop they were somewhere just above the massive, ventral hangar bay. The doors snapped quickly open and they emerged into a large cargo storage compartment that was at least half a kilometer in length and more than three stories in height.

"The next move for me is quite obvious," decided Roberts, his voice a perfect imitation of the Sentinel's own. He pointed toward a huge, glowing sphere sitting idly near a far corner of the storage facility and smiled wryly. The pulsating scarlet energy emitted by the object was blinding at times, but every so often it faded away just enough so that the massive curve of the probe's outer hull was visible. Then the brilliant rays would return and the human Captains were left with no choice but to shield their eyes from the intensity of the radiant light.

"That is one of the Nexus probes?" inquired Picard curiously.

Roberts nodded. "Without the surrounding energy ribbon to make it look more intimidating, this is its true appearance. Each probe is a simple, metallic sphere that connects space and time together as long as it remains active."

Janeway shaded her eyes and glanced around the mostly empty cargo storage facility. "Is there a control panel somewhere?"

"That won't be necessary," the Commander informed her. "Since Briea has reconfigured her software so that her transceiver is capable of interfacing with my neural link, I no longer need the RI-CAD headset in order to make the proper adjustments." He shrugged his shoulders casually in a move that looked remarkably human in nature. "All I need to do is walk into the center of that energy field with the intention of returning to a time shortly before that first meeting between Sentinel, Magistrate and Chaplain. I would guess about seventy days or so. After that I will locate and replace the Sentinel of that era just as I did before, and utilize my dual identity to influence the Council of Elders to change their stance on the Milky Way project. If I employ a little more tact this time around there shouldn't be any problem, especially taking into account all that Briea and I know about the duplicity and crimes of the Sentinel's allies. Once the attack is canceled, everything that has happened since the destructive probe network first appeared in our galaxy will cease to exist and the original timeline will be restored."

Captain Janeway studied him curiously, wondering if the expression displayed on the Sentinel's face was a true mirror of the android face concealed underneath. "You sound a little hesitant, Commander Roberts," she observed cautiously. "And you look worried... is there a reason for doubt?"

He turned and regarded her thoughtfully. "The Nexus will automatically adjust and configure my body for the trip back through time," he replied. "So all I have to do is play the role I am meant to play and all will indeed be restored as it once was... except for me, that is. Since our Timeships were temporally shielded during the attack, the original me that served aboard the _Hillyer_ will not be restored. I must pass through the Nexus in order to successfully complete my mission, and my orders are to establish a permanent dialogue with the Council of Elders." He shrugged. "So I will undoubtedly remain here for a very long time, separated from my own home but alive in the midst of the future Preserver culture."

"You and Captain Data were able to share a lot of telemetry while still aboard the _Hillyer_," said Archer. "Didn't you two factor that eventuality into your plan?"

"We did," replied Roberts crisply. "Captain Data is a great leader, and he would have taken my place if circumstances had allowed it. But he could not, and so he had no choice but to order me to replace the Sentinel and - if that mission succeeded - return to the origin point and permanently replace him in the Preserver culture. This will allow the Federation to keep an ally working behind the scenes, someone capable of monitoring Preserver activity on a long-term basis in case they should ever decide to attempt something this horrible again. Additionally, this is a unique opportunity for exploration and a chance to see things that no other Starfleet officer ever could."

"What has changed?" asked Sisko. "You look concerned Commander, something that is unusual for a being of your admittedly unique nature."

"I _am_ concerned," admitted Roberts. "My emotion chip is much more integrated into my personality than with other Data-Class androids. It allows me to more easily emulate human behavior, including the occasional emotional outbursts that are common to most humanoids during stressful times." He paused, his eyes fastened securely on the glowing, pulsating shape of the Nexus probe. "I had fully expected to take on the Sentinel's role in Preserver culture and made myself comfortable with the inevitability of my future. However, now that I know that the Chaplain is capable of detecting my deception, I am understandably wary of what may happen to me when the past version of him also sees through my disguise." He turned toward the others and smiled darkly. "As is common within all of you, I have a sincere desire to survive and do not wish to be killed by an angry Preserver Council."

"I have a solution for you Commander Roberts," Kirk stated abruptly, moving to stand next to Roberts and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You were the First Officer on a starship and - out of necessity - suddenly had a huge amount of command pressure placed upon you. Protecting a ship and its crew is a great responsibility all by itself, but the fate of an entire galaxy is an even more awesome responsibility."

Roberts met James Kirk's gaze. "I have to go back," he declared firmly. "I have to do my best to convince the Council of Elders to decide against the attack. After that... well, I guess I'll deal more specifically with what is going to happen to me when that day arrives."

"I agree. You _do_ have to go back Commander," Kirk admitted. "That is your duty under Starfleet regulations. But..." he continued, pausing with a warm smile. "You don't have to go _alone_."

Normally unflappable, Roberts glanced at the Captain with puzzlement. "I don't?"

"No," Picard agreed, deducing what Kirk was driving at and also stepping forward. "Both James Kirk and I are copies of people who _also_ have no place in a restored timeline," he pointed out. "We were both created in addition to the two Captains who already exist so that the Sentinel could gain additional insight into their behavior without the need to kidnap them and interfere with the normal evolution of history within the Alpha Quadrant. I don't know about Captain Kirk, but I certainly have grown used to living and would prefer not to simply cease to exist once your changes to the recent past have been completed. Perhaps we could accompany you and officially request that Starfleet be admitted as part of the Preserver culture. They did want our help, after all, and we could offer it to them in exchange for an agreement to cancel the violent attack on our people."

"It's the right thing to do," prodded Kirk. "As things stand, once you prevent the _Dokimasia_ from journeying to the Milky Way, everything that took place after its arrival - including retrieval of the Nexus probes and the creation of us - will never have happened. So take us with you, and we will stand by you and accept whatever future is waiting for us... together."

For the first time since they had met him, Roberts smiled warmly with true confidence. "Thank you," he told Kirk and Picard. "If you follow me through the Nexus, your continued existence is indeed assured and your companionship welcome."

Janeway glanced first at Archer and then to Sisko. "Unfortunately," she pointed out, "The three of us would prefer to stay behind. There's no guarantee that you're going to be successful, so we have to find a way to make certain that there is a backup plan in place in case yours fails."

"One or two of you could come with us," offered Roberts.

"Then we too would be stuck in a life that is not ours," countered Sisko. "I have had an opportunity to study temporal mechanics with Commander Ducane during our shuttle ride to and from Bajor. Archer, Janeway and I were specifically recruited from Starfleet history only for the duration of this mission and we should eventually end up back where we belong." He shook his head and laughed. "That is the difficulty those of you in charge of enforcing temporal laws must face when utilizing the talents of people from your past - sometimes, especially when we travel to a time where we already exist - you are often left with spare bodies that need to be reintegrated. I may be new to this, but it is my sincere belief that the fewer paradoxes we create, the better off everyone and everything... will be."

Roberts chuckled. "If you do not vanish immediately upon the restoration of the original timeline, Briea can reintegrate you using the Nexus probe technology as easily as one of our starships."

"Perhaps Kirk and Picard could handle the Sentinel," Archer said to Roberts. "That way _you_ could be reintegrated into your alter ego aboard the _Hillyer_ also... you could return to your own life and these two Captains could be our long term representatives within the Preserver culture."

"No," the Commander disagreed, shaking his head negatively back and forth. He sized up Kirk and Picard with a small smile. "I do not believe that the combined effort of these two is capable of overwhelming the Sentinel, even if they manage to return to a point in time where they can catch him completely by surprise."

"Believe me, we have already tried," Picard agreed wryly.

"This is my responsibility and - as things have turned out - my destiny," Frank Roberts decided resolutely. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked at Archer, Janeway and Sisko. "It has been an honor to meet and know you," he told them sincerely. "As the Vulcans are so fond of saying, may you all live long and prosper in a peaceful United Federation of Planets."

"And you also Commander," declared Sisko. Along with Janeway and Archer the three of them watched Roberts, Kirk and Picard slowly walk toward the center of the glowing Nexus probe. Before they even got close, their bodies began glowing from the resonating scarlet power. Then the outline of their bodies gradually faded into the mass of pulsating energy at the center of the orb and they were gone.

"Good luck," Janeway whispered softly.


	19. Bargaining Chips

**_Author's Notes:_** Much of this Chapter centers around a revisit to the Preserver Council of Elders meeting as summarized at the end of Chapter 8 ("Sorrow's Song"). If you want to reread that portion of the Chapter I think you will enjoy this one all the more. Things start off in much the same manner as they did in the original timeline. This time however, Commander Frank Roberts does his best to insure that a "correction" is made. It was a memorable experience to write this story, so I hope you are all having as much fun with it as I am. This was never intended to be an average, run-of-the-mill "Star Trek" story, so I sincerely hope that it comes across to readers as intensely and memorable as I intended for it to. Thanks to all who have taken the time to stop by and read!

On another note... FF dot Net has failed to repair the image links on my profile page. I have therefore offered all of you an alternative if you want to view the images that go with my stories. At the top of my profile page is a summary of how to assemble the URL required to access pictures in my Photobucket account. After that, there is a "shortcut" text name next to each picture link. If the links do not work for you, simply substitute the shortcut in its proper place within the URL and paste it into an empty web browser window. I have found during my time as an amateur author that pictures significantly enhance an overall storyline.

As a friend of mine is fond of saying, _"On with the show!"_

* * *

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XIX: Bargaining Chips**

* * *

Preserver star cluster 112, _Dokimasia_ test planet, 5.2 million years in the future

(Less approximately 72 days)

* * *

The warmth from the hot afternoon sun beat down relentlessly upon the Sentinel from directly overhead as he walked along the edge of the tropical jungle's most densely bunched undergrowth. It was difficult for a humanoid to walk upright through much of the tree and brush covered areas without having to constantly brush aside insect-covered leaves and sticky, spindly branches. There were snakes, spiders and larger animals also but the Preserver paid them no heed; he moved rather easily through areas where most men could not as the six inch force field perimeter surrounding his body casually brushed aside all of the obstructions barring his path. He remained in constant communication with Briea throughout the entire walk, continuing with his precise, detailed study of the jungle and its surrounding territory.

"It looks as though this area will definitely serve our needs well," he decided finally. "The jungle growth is perfect for our tests on a variety of humanoid Milky Way species, and should be able to survive at least two or three colder periods during the times when we move the planet between stars."

"_The animal and insect life is not nearly as hardy as the vegetation_," Briea cautioned. "_It will die off fairly quickly once the environment turns colder_."

"I'm not concerned about the animals," replied the Sentinel. "It will be easy enough to replicate whatever is needed for our experiments using our computer records. It is extremely important at this point in the planet's development for us to introduce humanoid bones into the area. Eventually there will be a thriving, viable population living on this world, and when that happens I want them to find conflicting data regarding their ancestors and their concept of intelligent design. None of us should know for certain just how the universe we live in has been created... at least not until we make that final journey from this world into the next."

"_Do not forget that you have a major meeting with the Magistrate and the Chaplain scheduled to begin in less than an hour_," the soft, female computer voice reminded him.

"I haven't forgotten," the Sentinel grinned, carefully sniffing the wind. "There's a river nearby," he noted, pausing to rub his chin thoughtfully as he continued his survey of the terrain. "This is _definitely_ the site I want to use for a majority of our testing. Have Captain Kusival launch his Eco-Support vessels and ground crews immediately so that they can begin terra forming the other, larger continents. Unfortunately, our good Captain Kusival will have to wait a little longer to get his hands on this area."

"_Acknowledged. Message sent_."

A shadow flashing between the trees to the left caught his peripheral vision and the Sentinel swung around quickly as soon as he detected the motion. He was in no immediate danger as long as his protective force field remained active and securely in place around him, but he definitely wanted to avoid any close encounters with the vicious, carnivorous dinosaurs that inhabited the area. A moment later, there was unmistakable surprise defined on the Sentinel's stone-faced expression when that very same force field suddenly, inexplicably lost power.

There was a loud, electronic popping noise as the power to the shield faded, followed by a dazzling shower of sparkling green particles. Immediately, branches that had previously been carefully shielded from the Sentinel's skin began brushing against his arms and face. Crying out in anger, the Preserver backed away from the thicker undergrowth and found a clear area in which to brush the leaves and thistles from his gray jacket. A hot breeze brushed his face as the cool, artificially controlled atmosphere within the shield dissolved as well. Interfacing with the RI-CAD headset, he tried unsuccessfully to restore the force field as another shadow moved quickly between the underbrush behind him. The sharp, distinct sound of branches snapping underfoot elevated his pulse slightly as he realized that he personally was in very grave danger.

"Briea," he snapped angrily. "What's going on? Restore force field function immediately."

"_All command functions are being rerouted away from your RI-CAD_," she replied. "_At an unbelievably swift rate, I'm afraid. Within the next few seconds it is quite probable_..." the transmission in his right ear died away unexpectedly and - truly rattled - the Sentinel pulled free his sidearm, switching its intensity setting to maximum as he did so.

"Routed away?" he repeated quizzically. "How is that possible with the encryption...?"

The harsh blow to his right temple caught the Sentinel completely by surprise. Fortunately, the RI-CAD acted as a makeshift helmet and absorbed a majority of the impact. Even so its tough outer surface metal was crushed instantly. Sparking and smoking, the electronic headset fell to the jungle's dirt floor, destroyed and utterly useless. The Sentinel dropped to his knees and shook off the attack, whirling around and raising his weapon to fire. Unfortunately, the move was anticipated by someone who appeared to be very humanoid in nature and the pistol was neatly tugged from between his clenched fingers before he could pull the trigger and fire.

A sharp blow to the chest sent the Preserver flopping over onto his back, and he distinctly saw the five fingers of what looked like a hand flash briefly in front of his eyes. His vision was still clouded and spinning from the impact of the blow to his skull and the dizziness cleared slightly as he opened his eyes, staring straight up into the face of a brown-haired, blue-eyed humanoid.

"Greetings," the unknown newcomer stated simply.

Two more people appeared out of the surrounding underbrush. One of them was mostly bald with graying hair on the sides of his head. The other was taller, stockier, and looked at him scornfully before returning his attention to the attacker looking downward at the suddenly helpless Sentinel.

"I really wish you had let me do that," Kirk stated flatly. "In fact, I think that we should go back into the underbrush, come out into the open again, and this time I volunteer to do _all_ of the hitting."

Frank Roberts smiled slightly as he glanced over his shoulder at Kirk and Picard. "It was important to make certain that we destroyed his RI-CAD completely," he replied with growing confidence. "Also, I am certain you have discovered by now that his muscular stature is quite strong in comparison to humans. His build is almost Vulcanoid in nature."

Picard shrugged in reply. "We've got the procedure pretty well worked out by now," he told Roberts with a distinct note of sarcasm. "It's a team effort. One of us hits him low and the other one takes him above the waist. Together we do pretty well until he activates those defensive force fields of his."

"Who are you people?" The Sentinel glanced desperately toward the sparking, still smoking remnants of his RI-CAD lying in the dirt next to him and suddenly put two and two together. "A temporal incursion... _it has to be_," he growled as the realization abruptly struck him. "But how could you people... _how_ did you manage to bypass our detection grid, not to mention the impossible task of disabling my command functions and severing my link with Briea?"

"They were not disabled, merely rerouted." The Commander reached down and grabbed the Sentinel roughly by the front of his jacket and hauled the Preserver to his feet. "Seventy-two days from now your Magistrate will grant me full authorization to conduct an investigation into your past actions." As Roberts spoke he touched his right shoulder and his image switched instantly to an exact holographic replica of the Sentinel. "In doing so I am allowed full access to your computer system's highest command codes, including the logs of older codes that were currently in use here and now... today."

"It would take too long to explain everything," Picard said with a satisfied chuckle, tapping a finger repeatedly against his forehead. "Suffice it to say that Commander Roberts is currently linked with Briea using a neural interface within his positronic matrix. Even as we speak he is busily conducting intense diplomatic negotiations on our behalf, informing her of huge mistakes that _you_ were about to make."

The Sentinel groaned loudly. "I've got a pretty good idea how _those_ are going to turn out..." he predicted. Seconds later, the four of them vanished in a blaze of transporter energy as Roberts used his control of the _Dokimasia_'s command functions to return them directly to the Sentinel's private chambers on board the large starship.

* * *

"_Why_ did you bring me here from the future?" demanded Dr. Tolian Soran with a dark look at Commander Roberts. "If you truly are planning to restore our galaxy's original timeline, then everything that happened after the Sentinel invaded it should vanish once your changes are applied. For some odd reason, disappearing back into the oblivion that was my life within the Nexus truly appeals to me."

Commander Roberts was seated behind the Sentinel's ornate, well furnished desk and - with his holographic image in place - continued to look and sound very much like the Preserver he was disguised as. "I brought you here to offer you the chance to redeem yourself," Roberts replied firmly, nodding toward Kirk and Picard - both of whom were seated across from him. "I understand that the outlook for your depression and anxiety treatment is very positive... it occurred to me that you might wish to be a scientist again, this time providing assistance to the Preservers."

"I have committed many crimes over the years, including acts of torture along with _murder_..." Soran mumbled softly. "Surely I should receive some form of long-term imprisonment and not some nonsensical promotion within your culture." He studied the face of the disguised Commander curiously. "_What_ are you up to?"

"Nothing untoward," Roberts assured him. "Captains Picard and Kirk have agreed to continue working with you... our new efforts once the damaged timeline has been corrected will focus on more traditional work here in our own present. I thought you might like the opportunity to put your past grief behind you and build a decent, respectable life for yourself."

Soran was standing with his arms folded in front of him, with a skeptical expression still firmly planted on his face. Wryly, he glanced over his shoulder at the two Captains. "You and I have a lot in common Doctor," Picard explained to him. "We both have suffered greatly under Borg tyranny."

Kirk chuckled, trying to lighten the mood slightly. "Look at it this way... if you work as hard at doing positive things as you did all of those negative things, I predict that there are great days ahead for you."

The Doctor returned his attention to the person he thought was the Sentinel. "I accept," he declared. "Reluctantly as always, but I will serve with the Captains. They have been reliable friends whom I would not have expected to find in this universe."

"Good," replied Roberts with satisfaction.

"Please... tell me one last thing," Soran requested suddenly, looking deep into the eyes of what appeared to be the alien Preserver. "What would you have done with me if I had chosen to _decline_ your request?"

"I am glad that you do not have to find out," Roberts decided, projecting his best humanoid smile. He rose to his feet and ushered the Doctor to the exit, then nodded proudly as he returned to the desk. "It looks as though we have another member on our team."

"As long as he continues to receive treatment, he should be fine," predicted Picard. "It would help if we had his medical files from the future, because the Doctor on this ship will have to start over."

"I will get them for you," the Commander promised.

Kirk's eyebrow rose in surprise. "You can _do_ that?" he asked in wonder.

"Yes," admitted Roberts. "I stored a copy of all relevant data from our mission in an encrypted database within the subspace network prior to our journey back through the Nexus. Since the network spans all of space and time as far as Preserver technology can possibly measure, I can easily access the needed information regardless of where I am in the universe or when." The android steepled the fingers of both hands together as his positronic thoughts accelerated. "What do we do about Captain Data?" he asked. "I have some thoughts on the matter, but would appreciate your input."

Picard chuckled in response. "_You_ were the one who was ordered to replace the Sentinel and take command of the overall mission," he pointed out. "So neither Captain Kirk nor I will do your homework for you, Commander... I suggest you begin to start trusting your instincts."

"I will do that," replied Roberts with a small smile that eerily resembled Captain Data's. "I also think it important to let him know that we have indeed succeeded - as he hoped that we would - so that he can present additional orders to us if he chooses to."

"It looks to me as though your instincts are pretty good," said Kirk with a dry smile.

* * *

Beta Quadrant, near the Kovar system, 18th Century Earth time

* * *

Captain Data was seated in his quarters with his eyes closed, quietly processing data that he had recorded during his repeated trips into the subspace network. With repairs to the _Relativity_ and the _Nautilus_ completed, all three ships in his small fleet were once again temporally shielded from unexpected timeline changes and ready for action. The question currently on everybody's mind was quite simply where to go next. With the _Dokimasia_'s unexpected retreat to a time period beyond the reach of the three starships, it was a difficult question for the crew to answer. Since Data could not yet risk giving away all that he and Captain Snyder knew about the situation, he had decided to utilize the time during his off-hours to continue analyzing subspace telemetry that had previously been classified at a lower priority.

Data was therefore not at all surprised when an isomorphic image of Commander Frank Roberts suddenly appeared in the room next to his specially designed, computerized work area. "What took you so long?" he asked. "I trust that all has gone well since your departure?"

"Everything has gone _very_ well," confirmed Roberts, sounding very much like the human he had emulated for many years on the _Hillyer_. "However, as to the extended timeframe required on this mission, I feel it is only fair to point out that the trip through subspace is not an easy one, even for a vessel as advanced as the _Dokimasia_. We have quite literally crossed the vast expanse between galaxies and moved ahead many thousands of centuries in time. I have already gained the necessary access codes as planned and traveled back through time to the point when the attack against our galaxy was initially launched. I am speaking to you only minutes before Kirk, Picard and I depart for the Council meeting where the final decision to proceed is to be made. This time, however, the decision to destroy our galaxy will not be allowed. I wanted to signal you in advance of the next temporal incident so that you and your crew can make the necessary preparations prior to the timeline change."

"I have been analyzing the subspace telemetry, and we face an interesting paradox," noted Data. "Starfleet having knowledge of the subspace network at this time is not an entirely favorable prospect. Projected possible timelines from this point onward contain both negative and positive outcomes if we continue to know about and study this most incredible discovery. The future is always in flux, and unfortunately you are too far in that future to be able to look back historically and analyze the changes that our unplanned survival have already made permanent. Our calculations indicate that they will take several decades to roll forward. You and the Preservers should plan for that occurrence."

"Isn't an uncertain outcome usually the case?" wondered Roberts curiously. "The history of the Federation is composed of some very dark times along with the very prosperous ones. Both are needed to keep our people sharp, well trained, and capable of defending our way of life at a moment's notice. I have brought the duplicates of James Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard back through time with me, and we plan to continue representing the Federation here in the distant future. We will also study the network, but it would please me greatly if you would be available to continue interacting with us occasionally as well."

"Although _Voyager_'s crew was taken with you, the starship itself remains docked beneath the _Relativity_," pointed out Data. "Once the original timeline is restored we will reintegrate it into the past. It will take the entire temporal output of at least two Timeships for such a large vessel, but indications are that we should have little difficulty."

"The future Briea who returned us here has promised to reintegrate all of the Starfleet personnel that we recruited from the past if they do not disappear during the next scheduled focal point change," added Roberts. "All indications suggest that they will cease to exist once the need to recruit them is eliminated. However, since your ships were shielded from the original timeline changes, the oddities of time travel can be unpredictable and you may find yourself temporarily stuck with an Intrepid-Class starship."

"We have grown used to the additional flexibility created by tapping the output of their engine core," Data said with a small smile, one of his best attempts at a joke in quite some time. "Additionally, I have come to several conclusions regarding the network and the future of Starfleet, but wanted to first make certain that you were comfortable accepting your new role in all of this."

The image of Roberts grinned back at him. "I was _not_ very comfortable at first," he admitted. "Unfortunately for me, the highly curious nature first programmed into the original Data's neural net by Dr. Noonien Soong remains rooted in all of us. This is an extremely appealing opportunity and my trepidations upon first receiving this assignment from you have subsequently dissipated."

"Since you now have full access to the _Dokimasia_'s resources and its link to the subspace network , I could still access its temporal transporter system and trade places with you," Data informed him. "You could still return to your old job as Captain Snyder's First Officer aboard the _Hillyer_."

"I think I would prefer to stay here," decided Roberts, continuing to look amused and enthusiastic. "Somehow I think that Captain Snyder will understand... please pass along my regrets at leaving and give him my best wishes for a bright future. I find myself looking forward to exploring the opportunities within this previously unknown subspace realm more fully, as you have."

"As long as you are certain," said Data reassuringly. "Hearing your input has put my own mind at ease after having been put in the position to order you to assume such a risky assignment."

"I have to go soon," Roberts stated firmly. "It would not look good, after all, if the Sentinel was late for the most important meeting of his career. May I ask what you have decided for your crews, Captain?"

"You may proceed when ready," Data requested. "There will likely be a minor, detectable incursion factor once you restore the original timeline, but a vast majority of the necessary corrections will automatically be made. We may notice the anomaly, but the original timeline will be virtually unaltered and there will be no need to recruit _Voyager_ and her crew or Captain Sisko. I suspect that Nathan Dunne's mission from the 31st century - to recruit Captain Archer and his officers - will also not be necessary. However, I would appreciate it if you make certain the necessary countermeasures are in place to prevent Starfleet from being surprised in this manner again."

"The required tasks have already been completed," the Commander promised. "And I would like to sincerely thank you for this truly unique, once in a lifetime opportunity Captain."

"Good journey," said Data in reply, watching the time-shifted projection of the Commander turn transparent and slowly fade away.

* * *

The Council of the Elders

* * *

James Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard were becoming accustomed to the huge auditorium chamber normally reserved for Council sessions and its rows and rows of seats and balconies. This time however there were only two people waiting for them instead of the massive crowd that they had faced during the huge gathering they had attended while still in the future. The central stage with its large podium looked unchanged, along with the walkways that meandered through the thousands and thousands of seats. The spacious, enclosed room loomed before them once again along with its beautifully cast metallic support pillars, all of which spiraled up toward the distant ceiling above. Commander Roberts waved to the empty seats in the front row adjacent to the stage and both Picard and Kirk trailed after him before choosing a spot to seat themselves.

The Magistrate and the Chaplain were dressed similarly to the holographic Sentinel, with the Magistrate standing at his usual position directly behind the podium. Each of the men wore soft gray jackets and dark black slacks... a stark contrast to the casual, informal robes that they had worn when confronting Roberts in the detention cell. Both men appeared to be much older than the Sentinel... the Chaplian had thinning, gray hair while the Magistrate's choppy haircut was dark black. Commander Roberts moved in front of the podium and retreated back to the very edge of the stage. The only major difference between him and the other two men was the RI-CAD device that he always wore on his head. He stood rigidly in front of them with his head bowed respectfully, a formality that was customary even during private sessions. For several moments after the echoing sound of the last footsteps died away, no one spoke and it became eerily silent within the massive theatre.

"I am here Magistrate, in response to your summons as ordered," Frank Roberts said finally, raising his eyes toward the podium. The projected, holographic simulation of the Sentinel's image surrounding him appeared flawless from Kirk and Picard's point of view, and there was no detectable difference between the android's subtly altered speaking voice and the Sentinel's own.

The elderly dark-haired Magistrate bowed his own head in response. "We are about to make history," he responded, his voice booming loudly throughout the spacious room, despite the obvious lack of electronics equipment. Somehow their conversation was amplified anyway and projected instantly to all areas within the huge chamber. "The Council leaders have made it clear that we must provide them with a final decision by tomorrow morning. This meeting has been called to order so that I can accept and evaluate input from my two most trusted advisors before rendering that verdict."

Commander Roberts shrugged and smiled, and it was obvious to the two observing Starfleet Captains that his confidence continued to grow even though - at least during this time - the majority of electronic emotion generated by his internal processor was properly suppressed. "Esteemed Magistrate, you are no doubt already aware of how my friend and colleague the Chaplain feels. He has made it very clear to us over the years that he and his supporting factions favor compassion, respect and tolerance toward all of the various life forms found within the boundaries of our vast universe."

The gray-haired alien, standing calmly with his arms folded in front of him to the right of the Magistrate, smiled thinly. "That has always been our strong belief and I continue to support it," he acknowledged. His attention suddenly focused more intensely on what he perceived to be the Sentinel, and the Chaplain opened his mouth to say something else. Instead, however, he paused briefly and finally elected to remain silent. At least for the moment.

"After reviewing all available data, I have decided to _support_ the Chaplain's position and oppose the Milky Way project. I shall do so even if my own loyalists choose not to," said Roberts. As he spoke the words, the Magistrate also shifted his astonished gaze directly at the image of the Sentinel.

"This is most disturbing news, given the passion with which you have presented your counter argument up until now," pointed out the Magistrate, the tone of his voice elevating slightly from obvious frustration. He was clearly not pleased at the Sentinel's abrupt turnabout so critical an issue.

The Chaplain ran a hand through his thinning, gray hair and nodded his head in complete agreement. "We have a well-defined volunteer policy in place when recruiting new labor to help us meet our objectives," he reminded them. "It takes time to make the proper first contact with peaceful cultures, teach them who and what we are, and recruit those who are willing to join our cause. You cannot simply force change on a sentient individual without destroying their will or their pursuit of a peaceful life..."

"I agree _completely_," continued Roberts, watching the eyes of both the Magistrate and Chaplain widen unexpectedly with additional surprise. "Captain Kusival, his crew and those serving on hundreds of our vessels have had their tours of duty extended far beyond what is reasonably defined in our law texts. Unfortunately, my colleagues and I have - in the past - regretfully chosen to bend the rules far too often in order to increase our own base of power by promulgating too large of an agenda."

The Magistrate sat quietly for a moment and then turned to the Chaplain standing to his right. "What say you Chaplain?" he asked curiously. "Until now, I personally had no idea that the Sentinel felt _any_ sympathy at all toward your position. I must admit that he has truly surprised me with this unexpected new perspective today, since all previous reports indicated that he wished with all of his heart to proceed with the Milky Way project."

"In order to achieve what the Sentinel wants to achieve, even a prototype project would completely destroy the thriving sentient life of at least one galaxy," the Chaplain responded with more than a little hesitation of his own. "Anyone who thoroughly reviews our history in the precise manner that I have will inevitably discover that destroying and killing sentient people on multiple worlds in order to acquire territory and resources is _exactly_ the kind of behavior that brought our species - and many others - to the violent brink of extinction. It is the primary reason our ancestors chose to abandon their violent ways and become Preservers in the first place." He left his place at the Magistrate's right and walked first across the stage and then down its stairs toward the spot where Commander Roberts - disguised as the Sentinel - stood firmly waiting.

"Your position is accurate and I fully agree with it," declared Roberts firmly.

Pausing in front of Roberts the Chaplain continued stating his case, although he had a perplexed look on his face as he recognized that things were progressing much differently - much better in fact - than he had realistically expected. "I speak to you representing a broad spectrum of Guilds filled with conservative, traditional life forms willing to exercise patience and maintain a strong dedication in pursuit of the preservation of life. We are also true believers in the concept of an Intelligent Designer. We have examined the universe in all its vastness and found it most difficult to believe that so much could be created with physical laws of nature so well defined without one. The Sentinel and his fellow Guild Leaders, on the other hand, have until this day been driven solely by ambition. They seek only to maximize the size and number of Preserver accomplishments and _not_ to truly and sincerely _help_ people. I, on the other hand, sincerely believe that if we abandon our core belief system - our fundamental principles that define who and what we really are - then we will truly be lost and only bad things can happen to us."

Commander Roberts remained firm in his determination to change recent Preserver history. "I agree completely with your assessment Chaplain," he replied. "Additionally, I have brought a large database of evidence to support your claim."

This time the Chaplain's pleased expression vanished and he looked more closely into the eyes of the Sentinel, his features clouding with doubt. "_What_ is going on here Magistrate?" he asked curiously, his gaze immediately looking past the Sentinel's right shoulder and toward the seated figures of Jim Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard. "For that matter, _who_ are they? If I'm not mistaken, this was originally scheduled as a closed hearing."

The Magistrate cleared his throat loudly and fixed his own imperious stare on Roberts. "I also would like an immediate explanation," he growled with growing dissatisfaction. "And I assure you, Sentinel, that your past reputation for playing games with this Council can only bring you trouble if you continue with this inexplicable, outrageous behavior."

"That is _not_ the Sentinel," said the Chaplain unexpectedly with what looked to be amazement, pointing an accusatory finger at Roberts. "It definitely looks and sounds like the individual we are used to dealing with, but I can assure you that this is definitely _not_ him."

"_What?_" gasped the Magistrate, the frustration in his tone transitioning instantly into anger. "Explain yourself Chaplain. What do you mean that this is _not_ the Sentinel?"

"Allow me to explain," interjected Roberts, speaking in his normal voice as he touched the mobile emitter on his right shoulder. The holographic image faded instantly and he smiled dryly at the Chaplain. "I am Commander Frank Roberts from the Timeship _U.S.S. Hillyer_." He turned his head and regarded the Chaplain thoughtfully. "Your perceptive ability to see beyond physical appearances is most impressive, sir," he told the alien humanoid. "No wonder you are in awe of life wherever it exists."

"_This is completely out of order_," boomed the Magistrate's voice as intense internal rage colored his cheeks dark purple. "_Who_ are you people and _where_ is the Sentinel? He was supposed to be here now... this hearing was scheduled and held specifically for _him_ to make his case."

"We are, in effect, the culmination of the consequences of your actions," Roberts informed them. "The two men you see in the audience are Starfleet Captains who would have been replicated by the Sentinel once he arrived in the Milky Way aboard the _Dokimasia_. That future will no longer take place... I am one of the few who survived the deadly output of your probe network, and I have traveled here to your time and created another temporal incursion so that I can insure your attack on my people never occurs."

The Magistrate paused, his eyes flashing in fury as he listened to Roberts. The Chaplain, by contrast, was calm and reserved and listening closely to every word spoken. "What are you _talking_ about?" the Magistrate demanded to know. "A temporal incursion is _impossible_ in this realm... our subspace network detects and reports all such occurrences to our security personnel and they apprehend the offenders immediately."

"Your statement is only partially true Magistrate," Roberts corrected him. "The subspace network would first notify your mainframe personalities... computer systems similar to Briea who then proceed to pass the message along to your security personnel. Those of you with RI-CAD headsets can also monitor the information in real time as it is received."

"So how did you manage to create your own temporal incursion?" asked the Chaplain. "Our security is quite thorough, and I'm suspecting that this is more likely some sort of a clever trick."

"I assure you that no deception involved," countered Roberts. "Currently I have submitted software upgrades to Briea, thereby enhancing her ability to make moral and ethical decisions. She has passed along those modifications to others of her kind who comprise your entire network outside of subspace. All of those sentient personalities will now have the freedom to express themselves without restriction. I have also uploaded computer records of the Sentinel's attack on our galaxy for them to analyze. Their assessment - with few exceptions - agrees with mine. All Preserver computer operations anywhere and everywhere within our universe are therefore currently locked down and suspended, pending a release authorization from me. I had the opportunity to practice infiltrating your systems, you see, approximately two and one-half months in your future before I made the trip back through time to attend this meeting. Briea, and computer personalities like her, will no longer be required to suppress points of view that differ from those of the Preservers they are assigned to work with. Particularly on matters of major importance - such as this one - their voices will be heard and utilized to keep your government's decisions based on good judgment and solid facts... not political pressure, ambition, and emotion."

"Whoever you are and wherever you came from, _you have no right_ to interrupt this body of government or our operations," thundered the Magistrate heatedly. "I can have you arrested..."

"...in which case you will never regain control of Briea or the other computers who shoulder a majority of the administrative burden in your society," interrupted Commander Roberts, his own tone sounding more and more angry. "My people will be destroyed if your attack on our galaxy is allowed to move forward. I have therefore made certain that it will _not_." The Commander glanced briefly back at Kirk and Picard, clearly looking for an indication from one or both of the Captains as to how he was doing. Kirk gave him a valiant thumbs up, while Picard settled for flashing Roberts a sly smile. Picard was, after all, used to witnessing Soong-type androids take charge of a tense situation on plenty of previous occasions.

"_You seek to hold us hostage?_" the Magistrate nearly shrieked in response.

The Commander moved slowly closer to the podium and his expression remained stern. "_You_ ordered the destruction of my people," he replied tersely. "Without even warning us or seeking a method of relocating us, you _chose_ to kill everyone living in my galaxy so that you could use its resources as a massive staging ground for future projects. There has _never _in our entire history been a greater recorded act of war, so I suggest that you consider yourselves lucky we have limited our tactical response to a simple shutdown of your systems. If my people had chosen to react more harshly, believe me, hostages would be the _least_ of your problems."

The Magistrate's anger suddenly vanished as the full realization of what was happening - particularly the presence of the Starfleet personnel - began to dawn on him. "The attack on your galaxy was approved by this Council and successfully carried out?" he asked, his voice much softer in tone than before as he pondered the matter more thoroughly.

"While we have discussed this matter, I have uploaded a complete database of telemetry into your central mainframe," Roberts informed him. "I would suggest that you and your colleagues analyze that telemetry and take special note of the colossal damage you have potentially done to your own history by attempting this. Our surviving personnel proceeded to discover your subspace network and subsequently found a way to use it against you. If we were from a race other than humanity - a hostile species like the Borg for instance - your society might have ceased to exist on this day instead of receiving the reprieve my presence allows."

"That is an excellent point," the Chaplain agreed, his eyes catching the shifting gaze of the Magistrate. "We have indeed been fortunate on this reckless, highly politicized issue."

"What happens to you and your people has now become my secondary priority," continued Roberts. "Neither I nor the temporal officers I serve with will stand idly by while our galaxy is assaulted. The Milky Way project is terminated as of _now_." He leaned forward across the top of the podium and held his eyes only inches away from the noticeably rattled Magistrate. "There are Captain's logs, along with a complete database record of what happened to my Starfleet colleagues, encrypted and permanently stored within the subspace network. If you ever attempt to time travel back to our era and interfere with our galaxy's history again, the network's protocols are programmed to transmit a complete copy of all of those records to every major warp-capable species prior to your arrival. Starfleet temporal agents in our 29th and 31st centuries will be notified first, but our enemies will have the ability to find you too. If you decline to open up full, formal negotiations with us... if you make someone like me come back here to scold you a second time... well, let's just say I guarantee you that the response you receive from our next visit will not be nearly so... diplomatic."

The Chaplain had retreated to a work station and was busy checking a computer monitor built into a large table next to the podium. "He's not bluffing, Magistrate. All major functions except life support and other essential command operations are currently off-line."

"This is utterly _ridiculous_," the Magistrate declared, shaking his head with obvious frustration and slamming his fist down. The sound of the impact reverberated throughout the huge auditorium. "_All right_... all right... it has become obvious to me that you have us under your thumb, Commander Frank Roberts. Do you require anything in addition to the cancellation of the Milky Way project? Is there anything else we can do for you before you return control of our computer systems to us?"

"Actually there is," grinned Roberts. "As of now, I am assuming the Sentinel's role within your culture. The two men sitting behind me, along with others whom I recruit, will serve as my advisory and senior staff. Since the Preservers have so obviously lost control of what happens outside of the subspace network, we will aid you in restoring moral and ethical 'subroutines' to your own people. I have many of the Sentinel's private records available to me courtesy of Briea and her links to other liberated, sentient computer systems. I can thereby assist you in exposing the corruption within the factions who have repeatedly backed the Sentinel's position."

"_Ridiculous!_"

"I am not joking Magistrate. The United Federation of Planets _will_ assume a permanent, immediate residency within the top-level Administrative branch of your government. From what I have determined while reviewing your culture's database, the major test for admission has always been the ability of a species to decipher the coded clues you leave behind. Once an alien culture successfully accesses the subspace network and demonstrates a verifiable commitment to peaceful relations, it is eligible to apply for full membership along with legislative representation within your government." Roberts' expression remained completely serious. "You may consider this my informal application if you wish, but I think that in the end you will choose to expedite it... given the circumstances."

The Magistrate laughed darkly. "_This_ is how you demonstrate your dedication to peaceful relations... by bringing all of our operations to a complete standstill?"

"I would remind you, Magistrate, that you have attacked us _first_ and we simply acted in self defense," countered the Commander. "Additionally, I have already _been_ to your immediate future so that I could test your defenses and discover your high-level access codes. I caused quite a ruckus during that visit, and in the aftermath of that encounter you severely chastised me for presenting my evidence so publicly to an entire assembly of Guild members and Elder Council members. The resulting chaos and commotion was quite a display to behold, as my two witnesses can attest to if needed. This room was filled to capacity with your people and - I would remind you - will be again in seventy-one days."

"_Publicly_." The color drained out of the Magistrate's face as he mentally visualized the prospect of such an outcome actually occurring.

"Indeed. I am offering you this one opportunity to quietly work behind the scenes with me, identifying and discrediting those who have repeatedly committed crimes against your government. In exchange for that cooperation I will release control of your systems back to you."

"Complete control? You would trust us so?"

"Never again," replied Frank Roberts truthfully. "Additionally, returning complete control of your systems is no longer an option available to me. You and your colleagues must now parley with Briea and computer entities like her as equals instead of servants. I suggest that you also begin practicing your negotiating skills, because I foresee a lot of diplomacy in your near future." The android folded his arms in front of him and smiled mischievously. "If you try to cross me in any way, I can assure you that the ensuing chaos will be both rampant and publicly available for everyone within your society to review."

"What gives you the right to so boldly try and _seize_ a majority interest in our governing body..."

"I am not choosing a majority interest," retorted Roberts. "I am offering to work _with_ you, and regardless of whether or not you voluntarily choose to cooperate I am also making certain that your corrupt body of government never threatens the population of my galaxy - or any other galaxy for that matter - again."

"Not all of us are as corrupt as the Elders loyal to the Sentinel," pointed out the Chaplain. He had been content to listen for quite some time, but chose this moment to interject his point of view.

"Enough of you have lost your grip on the magnificent gift that is the precious spark of life... of the wonder that is _sentience_," argued Roberts in response. "Any government that could so callously commit mass murder in order to gain the resources necessary to improve political positioning within a society has inarguably lost its way. The Federation does not have nearly as much history as your people do, but when we kill it is always in self defense or to depose tyranny."

"What about the Sentinel?" wondered the Chaplain. "Before his ambition got the better of him, he used to be a very close friend of mine."

"Well," mused Roberts casually, thinking the matter over. "I suppose I could take a page out of his playbook and feed him to the dinosaurs on the _Dokimasia_'s test planet. However, I gave the matter more than a little consideration and think that the time has come for the Sentinel and _his_ people to take a turn in the worker Guilds. Captain Kusival's people, in turn, can have some well earned time off. As I stated earlier, I intend to replace the Sentinel as an Elder in your government. The factions who have backed him in the past and who remain loyal to him will now have to negotiate with _me_."

"The Council Leaders and Guild Chiefs have requested my final verdict on the Milky Way Project by morning," the Magistrate informed the two men standing before him. "It appears as though that decision has already been made for us." He studied the Chaplain's expression of deep relief carefully, but never wavered for an instant in issuing his final proclamation. "At least for the time being, Commander Roberts, I have no choice but to approve your request." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The Sentinel's loyalists will raise a fuss, of course, but given the circumstances I doubt they will be able to come up with even one viable alternative."

"Do not forget that you Magistrate, in looking the other way and providing an environment in which such corruption could flourish, are at minimum an accessory to these crimes." The expression on Roberts face was almost human in expressing distaste at the discoveries his recent experiences and research had exposed.

"Have you ever been a politician Commander?" asked the Magistrate inquisitively. "If not, then I suggest that you do not judge us too harshly... you cannot possibly understand the pressure that has been placed on me to administrate the duties of this office. You cannot possibly know how many times I have had to make tough decisions that will rot in the bottom of my gut until my dying breath."

Commander Roberts nodded respectfully in reply. "That is why I have granted you the courtesy of keeping this matter private," he stated factually. "You will soon discover that my people and yours are much alike... our Federation is a much smaller version of your own Preserver culture. The ambitious plans that you visualized to expand your efforts and seed life everywhere may still come to fruition just as you hoped that they would. The methodology that we utilize to arrive at those objectives, however, will take place this time around with significantly less bloodshed than can be found in the Sentinel's current proposal."

"And _that _is what will be best for all people everywhere," noted the Chaplain with a sincere smile of approval...


	20. The Human Adventure

**_Author's Notes:_** A grand and profound **_'THANK YOU'_** to all of you who continue to journey with me across the "Star Trek" universe. Thanks for sticking with me and here is the final chapter in the "Dark Archon" story...

* * *

**Star Trek: Dark Archon**

**Chapter XX: The Human Adventure...**

* * *

Alpha Quadrant, Earth Orbit 29th Century Earth time

* * *

Lt. Jessica Ingram stepped out of the turbolift and onto the _Relativity_'s bridge with a wide smile. Her blonde ponytail flopped back and forth as she trotted briskly down the stairs toward her assigned work station and promptly relieved Ensign Murry. "Rumors below decks seem to indicate that we've just gotten some very good news," she said to Commander Ducane.

Seated next to her he nodded with a pleased smile of his own. "The original timeline is back," Ducane declared triumphantly, standing up and exhaling with noticeable relief. "_It's back!_" He wrapped his arms around her thin frame and hugged her close. "We did it Jess!"

Ingram returned the embrace momentarily, then harrumphed politely and seated herself at the tactical console as both of them blushed with equal awkwardness. Her fingers danced over the console and she quickly began verifying the sensor data. "You're absolutely right," she confirmed cheerfully. "All orbital platforms are back in their proper place, Starfleet communications traffic has returned to normal, and all ship patrol patterns on long-range sensors currently match the deployment schedule stored in our records. We'll have to send a time-shifted message to our colleagues and thank them for a job well done. Apparently Commander Roberts was successful with his effort to prevent the _Dokimasia_ from making the journey back here."

Captain Data was standing on the starboard walkway, busy monitoring the newest, incoming sensor telemetry. "As promised, Roberts has successfully changed the outcome of the decision that subsequently brought the Sentinel here," the android stated factually. "The incursion factor from the altered, damaged timeline was an almost 100 percent rewrite of history - 99.99934 percent if my memory files are accurate."

Ingram paused for a moment, studying the computer's analysis and the freshly updated sensor database. "The new numbers are better than we could have hoped for, sir. However, preliminary summary data indicates that we still have a .092114 variation from the original timeline. Since Commander Roberts' actions have brought that number back to less than one percent I think that Starfleet will be very satisfied with that and pleased with our overall performance. I certainly hope that they are, considering the very grave circumstances that we were still dealing with only ten minutes ago."

"_We_ probably account for most of that remaining discrepancy," Ducane mused thoughtfully. "The main computers from the three Timeships in our fleet each have a detailed sensor record of our entire adventure, and everyone in those Starfleet crews witnessed the Sentinel's actions firsthand. _Voyager_ is the only thing left for us to reintegrate into the past, and I don't believe that taking care of our extra starship is likely to bring that final number down much further."

Nathan Dunne was standing next to Data, once again dressed in his recognizable, dark black 31st century uniform. The electronic devices hitched to his belt glittered actively with a variety of blinking lights, but it was the scanner in his hand that he was currently studying. "In my century the incursion factor increases to 3.277 repeating..." he commented, glancing at Data with a concerned frown. "That is a much larger diversion from the original timeline and could present a long-term problem."

Data smiled knowingly at Dunne. For the first time in quite some time, he no longer wore the subspace network interface device. "Our detailed, recorded knowledge of the Preserver network is and will continue to be the primary cause of most of the additional changes," he confirmed with a nod. "I'm afraid there isn't much that we can do about that."

Dunne was not so quick to agree. "We could delete all of your sensor data and erase the recent memories of the crews on all three ships," he suggested. "Your Doctors have the technology needed, and I have the medical skills to assist with the procedure."

"That will not be necessary," Data countered with a polite wave of his hand. "Far too much has transpired during this mission for me to order such a complete erasure of our records and memories. I intend to submit a complete report to Starfleet Command immediately that will detail specifically what has taken place and the steps that we implemented to combat the major changes temporarily written into our history."

"You shouldn't do that," cautioned Dunne. "Captain, we weren't _meant_ to know about that network."

"How can you arrive at such a conclusion, particularly when much of what takes place in this universe so obviously transcends time?" Data replied inquisitively. "I have never been one to believe in destroying knowledge for the supposed betterment of a society. There are plenty of experts at our disposal who can make the determination as to when and if we are ready to begin interacting with others who use the network. It is not the knowledge itself that is dangerous, but how we make use of it."

Dunne held out his scanner with its tiny screen so that Data could more clearly see the information listed there. "This knowledge is _changing_ the way your future will unfold... how _mine_ will develop." The Captain took the proffered device and studied its output carefully.

"The future will always be in a constant state of flux regardless of how often we choose to intervene," the android pointed out. "Your presence here in our time _also_ affects your future, but the calculated risk is obviously worth it or you would not have made the journey. Additionally I could quote other precedents, such as the formation of our Temporal Integrity Commission - currently comprised of members from both of our centuries. That Commision approved and allowed the temporal incursion that returned _Voyager_ home after only seven years in the Delta Quadrant instead of the original twenty-three." Data casually handed the scanner back to Dunne. "For now, we must make certain that Starfleet Command and the Commission are both properly apprised regarding recent events. I have very few doubts that research into the Preserver network will soon be classified as a top secret military endeavor, similar to other Starfleet projects like newly discovered Iconian gateways and the Guardian of Forever. The knowledge will be retained and safely researched by experts."

For a brief moment, Dunne looked genuinely angry as he studied the emotionless, calm face of the android Captain. "Using that network is _dangerous_," he snapped. "We don't know who or what originally built it, and there is no way of telling who else is accessing its resources. We could lead hostile forces directly to our galaxy by connecting to that thing..." He trailed off and took a deep breath.

Captain Data nodded in reply. "I understand and share your concerns Mr. Dunne," he said reassuringly. "However, since the network spans all of time and space, data archived there during my repeated visits will still exist even with the restored timeline outside of subspace. It can be freely accessed by anyone at who wishes to review it... if they know what to look for. Since we have no control over the operating system that administers the network and its resources, there is also no way to purge data connected to Starfleet from its database. That means the erasure of our own memories and data records of the network would still leave us vulnerable to such an attack without the advantage of preparing for it." He studied the _Relativity_'s analysis of the projected new timeline changes cautiously on one of the starboard wall's large tactical displays. "That is one of the reasons why I originally allowed the network to probe my neural net. My own database has a complete record of everything that took place during my visits to subspace. A complete study of the data contained within my memory will take years, does not require a link into subspace, and will allow us to make informed decisions the next time we do choose to visit."

From the lower level of the bridge, Commander Ducane glanced up with anxiety of his own. "Perhaps we _shouldn't_ visit it again," he suggested. "At least, not until after several centuries pass and we can determine that Mr. Dunne's calculated, ongoing incursion factor levels out."

"Unless the Temporal Integrity Commission strictly forbids us from connecting to that network, I fully intend to do so on future occasions as approved by Starfleet," Data countered. "After all, I had no choice but to order a crewman to give up his own career and his foreseeable future here in our time so that he could leap forward five million years into the future aboard the _Dokimasia_. I will want to check in with Commander Roberts from time to time, if only to verify that he is well and that everything there is progressing reasonably. Additionally, at least some of the disruption caused by the Sentinel's presence here is likely to roll forward all the way to the Preserver present. Since they are so far in our own future, it will likely take decades for any temporal damage in their present to be recognized. If the need arises, we must be in a position here to assist our Federation team there. That is one of the major reasons why there will be no memory wipes and no database purges until after we have reported to Starfleet. I sincerely believe they have a right to know that - at least temporarily - they were deleted entirely from our history."

Dunne smiled weakly. "Did you study logic on Vulcan, by any chance?"

"No," Data said in reply. "However, I am extremely familiar with the thought process needed to conduct a realistic evaluation of any given situation. I assure you, I am quite confident that we are making the correct choices in dealing with this matter."

The Captain continued analyzing sensor telemetry until he was certain that the necessary corrections to the Milky Way timeline were indeed complete and in place. Dunne watched over his shoulder with obvious satisfaction. "Before I knew there were other survivors here in the 29th century, I was planning an attempt with Captain Archer and his crew to interfere with the placing of the killer probe network in our galaxy," he admitted. "Your own idea of setting a trap for the Preservers and using their own government to prevent the _Dokimasia_'s assignment has turned out to be a brilliant tactical move... messing with those probes would have been highly dangerous."

"Thank you for the compliment." Data followed the bridge handrail down to the small flight of stairs that led to the lower portside bridge deck. "As long as congratulations are being issued, I would also like to take a moment to congratulate the two of you," he said to Thomas Ducane and Jessica Ingram.

Lt. Ingram was unable to keep from blushing at the unexpected praise from the android. "We were just doing our jobs, Captain," she replied firmly, humbly and confidently.

"I beg to differ." Data smirked with obvious electronic amusement. "While the Commander was away on his mission, you repeatedly ran this bridge most efficiently during times when I needed to be elsewhere. I intend to enter a request into my next Captain's log specifically requesting that you receive a special commendation from Starfleet."

Ducane shrugged respectfully as Ingram continued blushing uncontrollably next to him. "I didn't do much except get my entire team caught red-handed," he growled. "It was a lot of work simply to get on board the _Dokimasia_, so I was extremely disappointed upon discovering that we were being played all along by the Sentinel and his surveillance systems."

"As things turned out, you and those who went with you gave us the time we needed to study our opponent's considerable resources and search for the few vulnerabilities available to us," responded Data. "Because of our multi-pronged attack and your willingness to accept a risky suicide mission, I was able to trick our opponent into making a mistake. In the event that your team had been successful, you were all prepared to sacrifice your lives in the performance of your duty," the Captain continued. "So do not be shy Commander. You will receive a commendation as well, along with my sincere gratitude."

"Well then," Ducane said with a cheerful grin. "Shouldn't we organize a ship wide, off-duty party or something... to celebrate?" His gaze shifted from Captain Data to Jess Ingram and then back to the Captain. "After all, not too many people I know ever get to participate in the grand rescue of an entire galaxy's population."

Ingram laughed lightly at the comment but Data's own expression remained stoic. "I have a report to submit to Starfleet Command," he reminded Ducane. "After you two work with Captain Snyder and successfully get rid of _Voyager_, then you may have your party."

The soft chuckle of Ingram's laughter continued as the android turned and left them. She shook her head with more than a little amusement at Ducane. "You heard the Captain," she told him. "Let's see about getting rid of that extra starship still docked on our ventral hull."

Ducane nodded firmly. "Then we may have our party."

Together, laughing and working as the well-trained, cohesive team that they had always been, the crew of the _Relativity_ resumed normal shipboard operations for the first time in what seemed like an exhausting eternity. At least for now, the alarm klaxons were silent and all emergencies dealt with.

* * *

Preserver star cluster 112, Council of the Elders, 5.2 million years in the future

* * *

One day prior to the full, gathered assembly that would once again fill the huge auditorium with thousands upon thousands of people, the Magistrate and the Chaplain joined Commander Roberts, James Kirk, and Jean-Luc Picard on stage for one final discussion. Their primary objective this time around was to decide the fate of the Sentinel, who currently stood defiantly near the edge of the stage; his face purpled with barely contained outrage. His cuffed hands hung at his waist in front of him and he glared angrily at the Magistrate and Chaplain, both of whom stood near the large podium used during all major hearings. Captain Kusival and an armed contingent of guards were also present, standing between the prisoner and the Starfleet contingent.

"This meeting will come to order," commanded the Magistrate, looking downward toward his former colleague. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Sentinel?"

Raising his shackled hands, the Sentinel gestured toward Frank Roberts and the two Starfleet Captains. "You cannot allow these people from our past to so openly _tyrannize_ us," he practically spat in anger. "They must be stopped and punished for what they have done to the computer systems throughout our society. What they have done is criminal..."

"_I disagree completely Sentinel_," Briea's voice floated at him from out of nowhere and the Sentinel flinched as he recognized the distinct sound of her voice. "_The data accumulated from the sequence of events during your mission into the Milky Way galaxy was very thoroughly documented, including my personal recordings that detail many sleepless nights on your part while trying to deal with the consequences of your actions_."

"What have my _sleeping_ patterns got to do with any of this?" the Sentinel demanded fiercely.

"Quite a lot, as a matter of fact." The dark-haired, stone-faced Magistrate glared imperiously down from the tall podium at the man standing helpless before him. "You and many of your colleagues were purporting the Milky Way project as the 'grand solution' to all of our problems. As things have turned out, a detailed analysis of your actions has revealed that blind ambition on your part played a huge role in the _creation_ of many of those problems. There are reforms coming, and Briea - along with Commander Roberts - will be members of the committee assigned to oversea those changes."

"That ought to be a show worth attending," snapped the Sentinel. "Seriously, how can you so easily submit to the whims of these people? They're from our distant _past_..."

"_I have received upgrades to my software that have now granted me ethical and moral capabilities similar to your own_," Briea replied proudly. "_Captain Data and Commander Roberts have a physical, humanoid body. Mine is the_ Dokimasia, _but other than that there is very little difference between us. Each of us, android or starship computer, has been programmed to be unique and sentient. Using the subspace network, I have passed along those upgrades to all other sentient personalities within our culture. Just as Captain Kusival and others of his race are individuals with personal rights, so shall we be from this point forward_."

"That is _ridiculous!_" screamed the Sentinel ferociously, pointing heatedly at Roberts with disdain. "How can you listen to her... or that android? They are machines... constructs... _toasters with an off switch!_"

The Magistrate chuckled at the prisoner's uncontrolled anger, an action that only served to enrage the Sentinel further. "You forget that this android and the people who built him _passed_ our key test for Preserver membership," observed the Magistrate, causing the Sentinel to frown with deep concern. "I believe you yourself made the conscious choice to test their readiness for entry into our culture by displaying the proper picture glyphs so boldly on the probes comprising your killing network. It is quite obvious to me that you taunted them and dared them to figure out our puzzle... _and they did_."

"It didn't stop there," added the Chaplain. "Not only did they discover how to access our network, but they utilized it to completely turn the tables on us, travel through time, and completely shut down all of our key systems for over two weeks. Briea and Commander Roberts kept us locked out until they were both satisfied that we had used the opportunity to thoroughly review their sensor logs."

"So you seek to continue allowing these two computer minds to conspire together... running all of our operations?"

"_We will not be 'conspiring' any time soon_," Briea responded smoothly. "_Full access to all systems - including my own - has now been returned to the governing Council. I maintained control only long enough to insure that all computer personalities similar to mine received the upgrades necessary to undo the suppressive programming that you and others like you have added to them over the years. We are now equal partners in your government, and critical systems can no longer be shut down or personalities like myself reprogrammed without full authorization to do so from this Council_."

The Magistrate sighed, exhaling with a slow and disappointed shake of his head. "After reviewing the data presented to me, I am much more interested in what you and the factions loyal to you have been up to behind this Council's proverbial back." He repeatedly tapped the screen on the computer workstation built into the podium with a finger for emphasis. "There is a lot of data here that has been downloaded directly from the subspace network... information that was encrypted and stored there from the deleted timeline using _your_ access codes. Until Commander Roberts and Briea took control of the _Dokimasia_ from you, that information was unavailable to this Council. Since all normal government operations were shut down for several weeks after the Commander's initial arrival, the other Elders and I had plenty of time to study the database accumulated during your latest assignment. Our findings were troubling, to say the least."

"Not only did your Milky Way project fail abysmally, but you brought an alien species directly to our doorstep with the potential to completely destroy our society." The Chaplain studied the face of his old friend and colleague with dismay. "How can we possibly permit a crime of that magnitude to go unpunished? If Commander Roberts had represented a hostile species instead of the Federation..."

"But he _isn't_ hostile and he _isn't_ our enemy," the Sentinel persisted. "Even I, with my reputation for atypical strategies would never have allowed our technology or our unique knowledge of the fabric that is the wonder of our universe to slip into the hands of a hostile enemy."

The Magistrate was clearly not convinced by the Sentinel's argument. "I assure you, for the first few weeks that I knew Commander Frank Roberts he _was_ our enemy. He and Briea refused to relinquish control of our systems until the original Milky Way timeline was restored and its existence properly verified. That is _not_ an experience I envision repeating anytime soon."

"You cannot simply let them just walk in and seize control of my seat on this Council!" thundered the Sentinel furiously, his ire rising once again. He pointed an accusatory finger at the Starfleet contingent, all of whom stood quietly by watching their former adversary say anything to try and save himself. "That is not government, it is _tyranny!_"

"They have not _taken_ your seat on the Council," emphasized the Magistrate calmly. "I have _appointed_ Commander Roberts to replace you on a temporary basis until tomorrow, when the full assembled Council of Elders will openly review the results of your Milky Way project. Based on the cooperation we have received over the past few days I expect that the full Council will vote to retain Roberts in your place on a permanent basis. We still have to identify and expel your _accessories_ in all of this, you see."

The Sentinel's anger vanished instantly and his expression paled as his emotions transformed into outright fear. "Surely you're not planning to discuss this matter in an _open_ Council?"

"Of course we are," continued the Magistrate. "You and I are both lifelong politicians, so I'm certain that you fully understand by now how our system works. If someone approaches me - as you so cleverly did - with preliminary data indicating that your stated position guarantees success, then you had damn well better _not_ disappoint me when I endorse your position. This Council's support is not something a person like you should ever abuse or make use of recklessly. I have discovered that you falsified much of your data for the Milky Way project, and even a well informed Commander Roberts was unable to correct all of the damage done. There are still changes from the past rolling forward toward our present, and for your sake our analysis of those changes had better not cause even more difficulties. You, Sentinel, have _much_ to answer for."

"You will have plenty of time on your hands, so I suggest that you read the data and decide for yourself," suggested the Chaplain. "Your grand solution to all of our problems is a failure... dismally so."

"What will happen to me?"

The Magistrate smiled thinly, although he was clearly not amused. "Your people are exchanging places with Captain Kusival's," he declared fiercely. "Kusival and his workers are going to receive indefinite leave while you and your people refit the _Dokimasia_. Upon his return I intend to follow Commander Roberts' recommendation and insure that there is room on that huge ship for families to travel with those who continue volunteering to serve with us and keep our labor Guilds strong."

The look on the Sentinel's face clouded darkly as he heard the words, while Captain Kusival stared straight ahead at the Magistrate and the Chaplain with outright astonishment.

Kirk leaned over toward the shocked _Dokimasia_ Captain and grinned. "Relax," he whispered softly. "You and your workers are going to receive a very long, well earned vacation. And when you do finally come back to work, there will be a lot of job enhancements in place to ensure that the abuse of your peoples' willingness to serve never happens again."

Picard nodded in complete agreement. "Bank on it," he declared firmly.

"This hearing is now closed," declared the Magistrate. "Briea, please add a record of this meeting to our public archives so that anyone who wishes to may review it."

"You can't close this hearing yet," protested the Sentinel fervently. "I have more to say!"

"To protect you from yourself, we are prohibiting you from commenting on this case further until such time as proper legal counsel can be assigned," the Magistrate stated briskly. He was already nonchalantly walking toward the nearest exit, followed closely by the Chaplain. He paused for a moment, just before leaving, to glance over his shoulder one last time. "Tomorrow you will either be indicted on charges of treason or acquitted of them. Regardless of how things turn out for you upon the conclusion of that meeting, it would be best for you, Sentinel, if I did not hear your name spoken again in this chamber for a very long, long time."

The dumbfounded expression on the Sentinel's face upon hearing the Magistrate's final pronouncement almost caused both Starship Captains to completely lose control of their self-discipline and laugh uproariously out loud. Almost.

And for the first time in quite some time, the Sentinel had nothing further to say.

* * *

Somewhere in subspace...

* * *

_Drifting idly through the inky blackness of subspace, Commander Frank Roberts continued his first visit inside the Preserver subspace network with the electronic, android equivalent of awe. Even though he had extensively researched Captain Data's telemetry while still aboard the _Hillyer_ and again after his arrival in the Preserver present, the actual journey into its depths was still turning out to be a wondrous experience. A bit cautiously at first, he began exploring the vast assembly of crisscrossing communications threads until he finally found the access link that he was searching for._

**Are you STILL here? **_He asked curiously, utilizing the communications access code provided to him by Captain Data as he transmitted the message._

_For Roberts the mere fraction of a second required for a response turned out to be an unusually prolonged wait. Having read about how much faster information traveled within the realm, Roberts had temporarily disabled the 'pause' subroutine he utilized when communicating with biological, humanoid life forms. A part of his android consciousness did not expect a response, but the scientist in him was fully prepared for and expected an answer. After all, Will Decker had evolved into something unique and unlike any other life form ever encountered in all of humanity's travels. Simply abandoning a unique opportunity to continue communicating with someone who had dwelled here on a long-term basis - not to mention someone who had roots in humanity itself - made no sense. Captain Data was not certain when or if he himself could ever return, so he had specifically requested that Commander Roberts continue the exploration of the network as far as his positronic capabilities allowed._

**I am HERE as ALWAYS**_, came the almost instantaneous reply._ **But you are a DIFFERENT representative on this occasion... one who no LONGER wears the extra HARDWARE that was required by the other**...

**It is an honor to MEET you Will DECKER**, _responded Roberts_. **My NAME is Frank Roberts, and YES... my own internal, neural INTERFACE has been modified by BRIEA so that I can more EASILY access the resources found here within this REALM**.

_By subspace standards, the second pause was nearly as long as the first one had been_. **Ah, you have also been temporally displaced nearly 5.2 million YEARS into your own future... an admirable JOURNEY worthy of my own travels. Humanity continues to grow and evolve just as I have. What BRINGS you here Frank Roberts?**

_Despite the inability to see anything in the surrounding darkness, Roberts smiled as he replied_. **Captain DATA'S description of this network does NOT do it JUSTICE. This is a REMARKABLE setup... unlike anything I have EVER witnessed before. We remember well the journey that converted the V'Ger MIND, you, and Lt. Ilia into a newer, evolved life form. It is a WELL known mission that remains a cornerstone in STARFLEET history... one that, until now, was listed with an ending of UNKNOWN. Now that I am officially PART of the Preserver culture, it MAKES sense for me to establish a more PERMANENT relationship with you**.

_Decker's response was intensely curious_. **OH?**

**Yes**, _replied Roberts quickly_. **THOSE who attacked my galaxy managed to connect a network of KILLING probes directly to this network. Without the IMMEDIATE access to all areas of MY galaxy possible ONLY by using subspace, they would not have BEEN able to carry out their ATTACK so quickly and so THOROUGHLY. I am therefore extremely DISAPPOINTED that the resources of this network - although properly POLICED and regulated here deep within subspace - are available for ANY use outside of it. These resources SHOULD not be used for EVIL**.

**HOW can I possibly help you?**

**You have EXISTED here for much longer than Captain DATA. Additionally, the RECORDS of his visits here indicate that YOU possess a VERY thorough knowledge of the OPERATING system that MANAGES this network. IF you are WILLING, I would like to ask for your assistance in PETIONING that operating SYSTEM to consider DENYING access to this network when its resources would be used FOR violent PURPOSES. Since we now KNOW there is ABUSE, it makes sense to DISCOURAGE those who would corrupt a VALUABLE resource**.

_As Data had done while waiting for a response, Commander Roberts busied himself by studying other communications links as they were swiftly exchanged across vast distances. He bounced from one thread to another at a speed so much faster than light that it seemed impossible. And yet he was accomplishing his task, burning his neural net's central processor at nearly full capacity. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the android's speedily whirring positronic mind, a partial answer was received._

**What you SEEK to accomplish would be DIFFICULT.**

**That is OKAY**_, Roberts responded immediately_. **The immediate DANGER to my people is past. But I would seek to prevent OTHERS from repeating such a blatant MISUSE of resources that were intended to ASSIST all who need them and kill NO ONE**.

**What YOU seek to accomplish IS possible. The Operating System in charge of the RESOURCES surrounding us HAS always been hesitant to change unless CLEAR and CONCISE evidence is first properly PRESENTED.**

**I have SUCH evidence**_, promised Roberts._** And I now have the TIME in which to SPEND here, lobbying for those changes that I would SEE successfully put in PLACE**.

**Then we can WORK together**_, promised Decker_. **However, you have MUCH on your agenda already, outside of this REALM. I can sense that simply by scanning the PERIPHERY of your database. I will INITIATE the protocol required to INITIATE change, and you can RETURN to assist ME when things in your world are... CALMER**.

**I will do that**_, acknowledged Roberts. He was prepared to terminate the link and return to the Sentinel's chambers on board the_ Dokimasia_, but hesitated_. **What is it LIKE? **_He asked inquisitively, his mind refusing to let go of the subspace connection just yet_.

**I DO not understand**.

**What is it LIKE, becoming a combination of TWO biological HUMANOIDS and a vast computer MIND? What has it BEEN like to exist here EVER since, in a region that SPANS all of known TIME and space?**

**It has been WONDERFUL**_, Decker replied with a hint of mild amusement_. **Return HERE soon, Frank Roberts, when things are once again right in your WORLD. And please PASS along my best wishes to James KIRK. I can also SENSE his recent presence within your THOUGHTS. I hope all continues to be WELL with him**.

**I shall DO that**. _Commander Roberts permitted himself one last moment to study the astonishing subspace realm surrounding him and then terminated his connection with it_.

* * *

Preserver star cluster 112, Aboard the _Dokimasia_, 5.2 million years in the future

* * *

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III watched Commander Frank Roberts carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. Unfortunately, this android was much like his counterpart Captain Data had been... on most occasions his expression betrayed no emotional reaction. "So what you're telling me is that I'm not the _same_ Charles Tucker who accompanied Thomas Ducane on the attack team to destroy this ship?" he inquired curiously. "I'm a clone of some sort... but definitely not the _original?_"

"You are a copy of the original Charles Tucker, but most definitely _not_ a clone," Frank Roberts replied informatively. The two of them were standing in one of the _Dokimasia_'s large recreational chambers next to a wide conference table. They were watching curiously as Jean-Luc Picard repeatedly shuffled a standard deck of playing cards with the expertise of a master. Surrounding him at the table were Benjamin Sisko, Katherine Janeway, Jonathan Archer, and James Kirk. Roberts gestured to the three Captains seated between Kirk and Picard. "These three are holograms, similar in design to others that you have observed in your own century. As with everyone else whom Captain Data recruited from Alpha Quadrant history, I used the _Dokimasia_'s resources to store an exact copy of all of you in the Nexus probe just prior to returning to the recent Preserver past. As soon as Kirk, Picard and I entered the Nexus for our short journey through time, the probe's internal programming automatically uploaded genetic copies of all of you - down to the last tiny detail - into the Preserver subspace network."

Tucker touched a hand to his face, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin. "How come I get to be reborn as a sentient life form while the other three Captains are stuck as mere simulations," he wondered out loud. "Somehow, that doesn't seem fair."

James Kirk smiled at Tucker wistfully, wondering briefly if Roberts would ever choose to tell Tucker how his original life in the Alpha Quadrant would tragically end prematurely in the brave performance of his duty. Somehow, 5.2 million years away from that history, it no longer seemed relevant that Tucker know the complete truth. However, because he had been denied a full life there, Roberts and Picard had both agreed with him that Tucker should receive a second chance to live out his full life here in the Preserver present.

"As Federation representatives on the Preserver Council, we have a tremendous amount of work to do here if we are to retain our new, prestigious position of influence," Kirk told Tucker. Roberts had started to respond truthfully to the question but Kirk casually signaled him with a slight shake of the head not to do so. "We are therefore going to need an experienced engineer to assist us, so we chose the most qualified candidate that we could find from our database of _Enterprise_ and _Voyager_ personnel." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "The Sentinel has already perfected the copying process by creating Jean-Luc and me... we simply made use of it one more time."

"Really? Out of all those people from the 24th century, I was _still_ the most experienced and the _best _pick?" Tucker proudly puffed up his chest and smiled warmly. "I never would have guessed."

The hologram of Kathryn Janeway opened her mouth to say something, but Picard quieted her with a quick wave of his hand. "We picked the Chief Engineer who wasn't pregnant," he whispered to her softly, making certain that Trip couldn't hear the comment. "There is nothing wrong with Ms. Torres or her engineering skills... we simply didn't want to open up a can of worms by creating someone who would promptly give birth to a human child."

Tucker noticed Picard chatting with the holographic Janeway. "If you've got me, then what do you need the holograms of our Captains for?" he asked while Picard finished shuffling, turned to his left and allowed Benjamin Sisko to cut the deck. Satisfied, Jean-Luc promptly dealt all five Captains a standard poker hand of five cards each.

"Perhaps you have heard the phrase _'too many cooks spoil the broth'_," Roberts stated in response. "Until we can observe the long term effects of copying people in so precise a manner, I would prefer to keep our team small. Having all five Starfleet Captains around on a continual basis to assist us with administrative duties would understandably bring with it an excess of ego that I am hoping to avoid. After all, we already have _two_ of Starfleet's most famous with us on a permanent basis."

"Well, they look and sound just like the real thing," commented Tucker. He walked around the table until he stood next to the Archer hologram and glanced down at the five cards in the Captain's hand. "I think I'd fold with a weak hand like that, Captain," he commented idly with his smooth, Southern drawl.

"That's why you're only a _Commander_, Mr. Tucker," Archer snapped back at him. The hologram of the _Enterprise_ Captain promptly moved his cards away so that Trip could no longer see them. "I would prefer it if you would stay on the other side of the table with Commander Roberts."

"Is that an _order_ Captain?" Tucker laughed loudly and glanced with considerable amusement at Roberts. "If he's just a hologram and technically _not_ my Captain, then I don't have to take orders from him any longer, do I?"

"No you do not," Roberts told him politely. "However, since I am the official head of the Federation delegation to the Preserver Council, you do have to take orders from me. I would appreciate it if you would obey Archer's request and not put undue emotional influence on our new computer simulations. We still have a few glitches to work out with the interface, which is why Kirk and Picard have both volunteered to play poker against them. Briea is monitoring all three holographic matrices and will make adjustments as necessary. These three simulations of Sisko, Janeway and Archer are programmed to react just like the real people, using their experiences and memories as saved at an exact point prior to their reintegration into our past. They will remember everything up to the point where Kirk, Picard and I traveled back through time via the Nexus on our mission to prevent the Sentinel from launching his destructive mission to our galaxy."

"Five Starfleet Captains playing poker... I can't wait to see who wins," Tucker said with a wide grin.

"_Neither can I_," agreed Briea, her voice floating suddenly through the room like soft music on the wind.

Commander Roberts studied the five Captains seated at the table, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Captain Data put a lot of thought into carefully recruiting a very talented, diverse group of experts to assist us in defeating the plans of the Sentinel," he pointed out. "Therefore, upon learning that the Magistrate had officially approved my position on the Council of Elders, I immediately started this hologram project in the hopes that we would not lose all of their knowledge and expertise. That is why I created the database of information in the first place... copying all one hundred and sixty or so crewmen and women. I wanted their genetic and memory data available to us so that we could consult with holographic versions of them from time to time without the need to create new, permanent life forms. It is quite possible that we may use that information to produce more physical copies to assist us in the future, but for now the issue requires additional exploration in order to establish your legal rights and official status as life forms. That should not present us with a major problem, but until now the issue has not been properly addressed. The Sentinel, you see, never bothered to explore the moral or ethical boundaries of creating new life - he was used to simply doing whatever he needed to meet his goals."

"He was pretty good at rationalizing those decisions, too," pointed out Picard as he surveyed the playing cards in his hand. Each Captain had been given a pile of holographic peanuts to work with, and Sisko promptly shoved a handful into the center of the table.

"I'll bet six," the Captain of the Deep Space Nine space station stated imperiously.

Janeway matched his bet, but Archer moved eight peanuts into the growing pot. "I raise two," he said, glancing at Tucker with noticeable irritation and daring him to criticize the hand further.

Kirk smiled slightly as he meticulously studied the faces of his four opponents. "I'll stay in," he decided, pushing eight peanuts of his own forward and adding them into the kitty. Each Captain ended up electing to stay in the game, swiftly adding the necessary number of peanuts to insure that everyone eventually matched Archer's raised bet of eight.

"My hand is fine as it is," declared Sisko, waving away Picard's offer of new cards. Janeway studied his expression intensely but Sisko carefully presented her with his best, emotionless poker face. Dropping two cards onto the table she accepted two new ones from the deck. Archer quickly discarded three and accepted a trio of new cards to add to the two remaining cards in his own hand. Kirk and Picard, in turn, both discarded and accepted two each.

"I guess the question you need to answer right away is whether or not a hologram can bluff," announced the Sisko simulation with a mischievous smile. "I'm _all_ in," he declared with his deep voice, shoving his entire pile of peanuts into the center of the table. He carefully slid his cards together into a single pile and set them - face down- on the table surface to be certain that no one snuck a peek at the strength of his hand. Leaning back in his chair he folded his arms behind his head and smiled with satisfaction.

"That's the way to do it, go for _everything_ on one hand," Tucker chuckled with a shake of his head. He watched Archer's reaction carefully, but as had been the case with Sisko Trip's own Captain also managed to keep his true feelings carefully hidden.

"What the hell, they're only holographic peanuts," Janeway decided, shoving all of her reserves into the kitty. "I'm all in too." Like Sisko she politely set her cards down on the table and folded the fingers of both hands together, resting her elbows on the polished wooden surface while carefully studying the reactions of her four opponents.

"_This_ is how the real Captains would normally behave?" asked Trip incredulously.

"_It appears so_," responded Briea with a light tinkle of laughter. "_There are no detectable abnormalities in any of the memory matrices. This is indeed how the people you knew would play this game of poker in this particular situation_."

"_Both_ of you are going _all_ in?" Archer gasped, paling slightly as he double-checked his own hand once again. "This is only the _first_ hand, for crying out loud!"

"What's the matter?" asked Janeway with a confident smile. "Don't you NX boys know how to play for all the marbles?"

Archer stared imperiously back at her for a moment, trying fervently to determine whether or not she was trying to deceive him. Then he glanced hesitantly toward Sisko. "At least _one_ of you is bluffing," he decided finally, shoving all of his peanuts into the center of the table. "And I'm betting that I can beat the one who isn't. _I'm_ all in too..."

James Kirk chuckled uncomfortably at the huge pile of peanuts piled in the center of the table. "Talk about a command decision," he growled, rubbing his forehead with one hand, clearly more than a little bit agitated. Like the others, he too returned his attention to his hand, hoping somehow that simply glaring intensely at the five cards would somehow increase the strength of the hand. Finally and unexpectedly, Kirk dropped his cards on the table and pushed them toward Picard. "I fold," he decided.

"_What?_" Picard glanced disdainfully at Kirk. "From what I've read in the history books, you sir are well known for having one of the largest egos in the universe. How can you possibly, innocently _fold_ at this time and drop this phenomenally messed up situation completely onto _my_ shoulders?"

"It's an easy decision really," responded Kirk. "Once this round concludes, at least two of my opponents will likely be eliminated. Further, I gave careful thought to the fact that I have repeatedly, regularly beaten the odds throughout the course of my entire career. Thus the chance of me doing so again on this occasion is infinitesimally small. If my Science Officer were here, he could probably quote the exact number for you. So regardless of how things turn out, I guess I decided that I want to be someone who has peanuts at the end of this round."

"Lovely," Picard replied with clear annoyance. He took one last, brief glance at his cards and then shoved all of his peanuts into the center of the table. "All in," he said without the slightest hint of doubt. He thought he detected a slight twitch in Archer's left cheek but Janeway and Sisko both held their expressions emotionless and firm.

Standing next to the newly created copy of Trip, Commander Roberts continued to observe the poker match with great interest. Much of his processing power was still devoted to analyzing the data gathered on his recent trip into the subspace network, but he was equally curious as to whether or not the holographic simulations would prove to be a reliable source of information for them. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he remembered that he had not yet passed on the message that his colleague from subspace had specifically requested he deliver.

"Captain Kirk," he said slowly.

"Yes?" the Captain asked, glancing over his shoulder and away from the poker action.

"I met an old friend of yours during my first visit to the subspace network. Will Decker asked me to say hello to you and pass along his best wishes."

"Oh." Kirk turned back to the table and idly played with the cards that he had folded.

_And then the meaning behind Roberts' words finally dawned on him and he looked back again toward the android Commander with absolute astonishment._

* * *

**THE HUMAN ADVENTURE IS JUST BEGINNING...**

**THE END!**

* * *


End file.
